


(Re)Learning How to Be a Human Being

by orphan_account



Series: Naegi Makoto prevents the apocalypse by dating an emotionally stunted science experiment [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Identity Issues, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, M/M, Naegi is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kamukura Izuru was created to be the perfect being, with his infinite capacity tempered only by his infinite boredom. His relationship with Naegi is one of the only spots of interest in his life, and he soon finds himself being pushed to learn beyond the boundaries created by his teachers and confront what his existence means.AKA: The story of how Naegi Makoto prevents the apocalypse by dating an emotionally stunted science experiment.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Naegi Makoto
Series: Naegi Makoto prevents the apocalypse by dating an emotionally stunted science experiment [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602232
Comments: 163
Kudos: 498





	1. Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> So I never watched the Despair side of the dr3 anime, but apparently Kamukura claimed to have Ultimate Luck as well… I think that’s BS, and this is effectively even more AU than before! It hinges on him being intrigued by Luck so… whatever.
> 
> Most of this will just be cutesy, fluffy stuff because I've got a sweet tooth and this pairing is my newest addiction, but eventually will deal with Junko and her despair plans. It probably won't be too long of a fic overall, though.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura experiences a new emotion when Naegi challenges his way of thinking, and finds himself unable to completely ignore Enoshima when she sows seeds of doubt.

“Don’t forget,” his teacher instructs him sternly, “you are the Ultimate Hope. You are above everyone else. Do not allow yourself to be distracted.”

Kamukura ignores him and finishes his painting, carefully placing it aside. He’d spent the night previous mixing the colours that he’s used so frequently. Desaturated browns, greens, and hazel. In a school of Ultimates with colourful eyes, neon hair, and distinct clothing, it should be unbearably dull… But these colours have become the only ones he cares about.

“Izuru."

He hangs the painting on the wall packed full of other paintings. He’ll need to cycle some of the older ones out once he creates more. Perhaps he'll clear the whole wall and make a mural.

His teacher sighs. “Why do you keep doing this? Ignoring your studies, ignoring us… You’re wasting your talents on him.”

“At least he’s not a Reserve Course student,” another says, indicating they’ve finally realized the identity of his fascination. She examines the painting and eventually nods, accepting the quality of it, as if he could produce anything of poor quality.

“The Lucky student is only barely one step above them…”

Kamukura almost frowns at that comparison. Something innate inside of him revolts against someone as interesting as Naegi being compared to the useless, talentless beings in the Reserve Course. Naegi’s talent is something that cannot be copied or learned. He is superior to the other Ultimates around him that Kamukura can instantly surpass.

“Izuru,” the first says, “if you cannot stay focused, perhaps we should encourage your… ‘friend’ to leave the school. He’s doing nothing except disrupting your work.”

They’re trying to threaten him. _Him._ He turns his gaze to his idiotic teacher who shrinks back. He doesn’t bother refuting them. If they try to separate them by sending Naegi away, they will soon find themselves without their Ultimate Hope. This school means nothing to him. These teachers mean nothing. His interest lies in his boyfriend, and that’s all.

Without a word, he turns and leaves his lab. It’s time for him to meet Naegi now.

* * *

Kamukura examines the gift that Naegi had presented him with a critical eye.

They’d been walking together to the library for Naegi to study for an upcoming exam, something that still seems so pointless to Kamukura, when Naegi had abruptly stopped and offered him a small packet with an eager expression.

This isn’t the first time Naegi has offered him a small gift. He’d explained to Kamukura that dating couples often would purchase or make things for one another in order to show affection. That information mainly proved to him even moreso that he’d been correct in assuming that he likes Naegi - after all, he’d been making and providing Naegi with food frequently during their time together, albeit without the other boy’s knowledge. When he’d eventually told him, Naegi had been awestruck at something so simple.

* * *

_“You… you made all of that?!” he asks, jaw dropping open. “I always thought you just bought it!”_

_Kamukura nods. “I mimicked the items you bought for me. You didn’t notice.”_

_“N-No, I didn’t… I’m amazed. I mean, you’d seriously give the Ultimate Chef or Baker a run for their title if you wanted to. I burn everything I touch in the kitchen… My sister says I could even burn water,” Naegi says sheepishly._

_Kamukura considers briefly telling him that his talent could outstrip the Ultimate Chef with ease, or that the food he’d made had been of purposefully low quality to match the food items Naegi had given him. He doesn’t say anything, in the end._

_He supposes he should actually make Naegi proper food and show him what his talent can actually produce._

_Naegi almost cries when he brings him a lunch the next day, eating it in between heaping servings of praise. It's different from when his teachers praise him. Kamukura makes it a point to only make the very best food for Naegi he can from then on, when he feels up to the boredom of cooking._

* * *

“Do you like them? Or think you’ll wear them at all?” Naegi asks, watching him. “It’s fine if you don’t! I just saw them and thought they might help keep your hair out of your face. You said it was annoying once when the wind blew it in your eyes, so I just thought...”

Kamukura slides one of the barrettes out of the package. It’s long and red with a hint of glitter, and snaps open with some pressure.

“And they match your eyes,” Naegi says brightly, looking for approval.

The colour of the barrettes and his eyes are not the same. They are clearly multiple shades off, and he’s certain that his eyes don’t glitter. He doesn’t say this, though. Instead he pulls some wayward tendrils of hair aside and clips them down with the barrette.

Naegi beams. “So you _do_ like them?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that - ‘liking’ things is still a rather foreign concept - so he just pockets the rest of the package. Naegi seems to take that as a yes, and hugs him around the waist tightly, smiling into his chest.

“I’m glad!” he says, tilting his head back and getting onto the tips of his toes.

Kamukura leans down in response and kisses him. This is another ritual he’s begun to look forward to despite its repetitiveness. Naegi has become less and less hesitant over the recent weeks to show physical affection in front of other people, even sharing a kiss in front of his classmates when Kamukura had walked him to class.

* * *

_Someone wolf whistles from inside of the classroom and Naegi goes bright red, posture blatantly becoming discomfited as he steps back from Kamukura’s embrace. Kamukura doesn’t understand why he dislikes people noticing this small ritual, but he still feels annoyance at whoever it was that made Naegi feel this way._

_“Wow,” Enoshima smiles, eyes sparkling as she struts over to them. “Our cute little Naegi has a boy~friend? Who’d have thought?”_

_Of course it’s her. Kamukura frowns at her and stops himself from pulling Naegi away. He doesn’t appreciate the look in her eyes, the way it’s almost scathing towards the smaller boy._

_Her voice is still light and airy when she says, “Weeeell, Naegi? Gonna introduce us to dark, tall and handsome here?”_

_Some of the other students notice and wander over, all eagerly looking Naegi’s boyfriend. He’s noticed before how popular Naegi seems to be, considering how frequently their time together is disturbed by his classmates seeking him out for advice. It’s only natural they’d be intrigued._

_“Oh, it’s him!” the Ultimate Swimmer says. “Umm… I don’t remember his name though. Hehe…”_

_“Ah, his name is Kamukura,” Naegi answers when Kamukura only stares at them._

_The others who’d seen them together murmur and eye him critically, gauging him. He supposes they want to see if he’s worthy of Naegi’s affection. Enoshima’s smile doesn’t change from her Fashionista persona, but he can see the violent emotions in her eyes. How annoying._

* * *

They pull away and he watches Naegi touch his mouth wonderingly, and his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. “It’s sweet…” He can see as Naegi notices for the first time the thin layer of product he’d made and applied.

“Do… you like it?” Why did he just hesitate while asking that? He’s understanding less of himself as time goes on.

Naegi hums thoughtfully and pulls him into another kiss. He lingers there and pulls away just enough to lick his lips again. Kamukura’s chest tightens oddly. His physical health is carefully monitored by his teachers so he knows there’s nothing wrong with him, but he can’t explain the slight increase in his pulse.

“It tastes good,” Naegi finally decides after they’ve kissed a dozen times and the lip product is gone. “I like it a lot.”

Kamukura forces himself to let go of Naegi, lips tingling, and trails behind him through the campus to the library. He’d taken care to observe Naegi’s preferred sweets and created a lip balm to ensure his kisses were of high enough calibre, and this was the first time he'd used it.

A resounding success, and Kamukura applies more as he follows the smaller boy.

As promised, the barrette keeps his hair out of his face even when the breeze tries to blow it around. He feels the warmth he’s begun to associate with Naegi bloom in his chest.

In the library, he sits down at the secluded table Naegi selects, idly watching the smaller boy settle himself amongst various textbooks and notes. There aren’t very many other students for him to observe, and their seating prevents him from curling up in Naegi’s lap.

It’s boring.

Aren’t things supposed to be _not_ boring if it’s with the person they like?

Naegi must somehow sense his boredom, giving him a small smile. “Um… You know if you have anything you need to study, you can do that. I know it must not be very exciting watching me.”

“I don’t need to study.”

“Oh? You don’t have any exams coming up?” Naegi almost pouts. “I’m jealous…”

Kamukura shakes his head. “I have exams every day. But I don’t need to study.”

Naegi seems to struggle between which of those two statements to ask about first, so Kamukura decides to explain.

“I am trained and tested in my talents by my teachers daily, but my capacity allows me to learn nearly instantaneously so I do not need to waste any time on studying or practicing.”

“Talents? As in multiple?” Naegi asks a little hesitantly. “I guess I never did end up asking you what Ultimate you are…”

“... Hope.”

Naegi seems taken aback. “Hope? You’re… the Ultimate Hope?”

“Yes.”

“S-So when you say talents…”

“I am able to learn any talent flawlessly, save for Luck.”

Naegi doesn’t say anything for a moment. His face is pale. Kamukura supposes it might be difficult to hear about how inferior every other person is compared to himself. Hope is not a common title after all - he’s the very first to have it, and he’ll more than likely be the last unless they decide to try the surgery on another student.

“I… I see… That’s…” Naegi fiddles with his books. “Um. That’s pretty incredible.”

The air feels tense. “Is there an issue?”

“It’s just… I mean, I always knew I was out of my depth here,” Naegi laughs self-deprecatingly. “Compared to everyone in my class, I stand out because I’m just so _normal._ I’m not very smart, or good looking, or good at sports. I can’t sing, or dance, or write, or anything like that, and I don’t even have a real talent. I was kind of okay with that. But now… I don’t know. Learning that someone like you exists makes me feel even more like I don’t belong at this school.”

Kamukura frowns and shakes his head. “Luck is interesting. I cannot learn it. _You_ are interesting.”

“Doesn’t that just mean it’s not a real talent? I mean if you can’t learn it, that means there’s nothing there _to_ learn,” Naegi says, staring down at the desk. “It’s just random. I can’t control it… It’s not a talent. And my luck is mostly bad anyways so it’s not like it’s useful either.”

“You are not talentless.”

“I don’t know how you can say that so confidently…”

“You are not talentless because you are not useless,” Kamukura explains, unsure of why Naegi looks so shocked at his words. It only makes logical sense.

“ _Useless_?”

“Those without talent are useless. They leech off of those with true talent while not acknowledging their inferiority.” Kamukura does not understand why Naegi pulls away from him with a look of disgust. This is common knowledge.

“My sister doesn’t have a ‘talent’. So you think she’s useless?”

Kamukura doesn’t respond to that, but Naegi seems to know what his answer would be anyways, standing up from his chair and glaring at him angrily.

“Why would you think that? Who even _told_ you that?” Naegi asks heatedly. “That’s just so wrong! Thinking that someone’s worth is tied to how good they are at something… It’s terrible. There’s more to life than just talent!”

He sounds like Nanami.

“I am taught daily that there is no worth in those who are talentless.”

“Your _teachers_ actually tell you that?” Naegi sounds horrified. “Why?!”

Kamukura is understanding less of this conversation as it goes on. “‘Why’? It’s the natural way of the world. Those who do not have a talent are useless and drag the world backwards because they do not comprehend their place. Those who are talented are their superiors. This is reality.”

“You really don’t understand why that’s wrong?!”

 _He_ doesn’t understand? He always understands everything perfectly. During their relationship, Kamukura has come to realize how naive Naegi can be. This appears to be something he is confused about.

“I didn’t know you were like that, Kamukura…” Naegi looks betrayed. “If you’re the Ultimate Hope, then shouldn’t you want to help everyone?”

“If we allow the talentless people of the world to stay in power, then the world will never evolve. It will stagnate.”

“That’s wrong! That’s _so_ wrong! Having a talent doesn’t automatically make you better… Not having a talent doesn’t automatically make you worse! The world keeps moving forward based on people working together! If we can’t rely on one another, then we won’t get anywhere!”

Kamukura wonders how it feels being so passionate about something. If nothing else, this conversation has allowed him to see something new inside of Naegi. A light inside of his eyes, bright and powerful. It’s interesting.

“No one is better than someone else because of their talents… Even you. Even someone as amazing as you is still human, like me, like my sister. We’re all just people.”

“You were shocked at my talents. Doesn’t that mean you acknowledge my superiority?”

Naegi hesitates before forging forward. “I… Well, I mean, yeah of course I was surprised. Hearing that someone can learn something so quickly… It’s almost impossible to believe. It _does_ make me feel inferior. And you _are_ amazing, I won’t deny that. But instead of thinking that you’re superior and that means people who don’t have talents are underneath you… Don’t you think you should use your talents to help everyone else up? No one’s born knowing how to walk. People _help_ them. Someone as amazing as you could do so much good!”

Kamukura… doesn’t know what to think about that. He’s the perfect person, and yet… it’s true that he himself is being taught by inferior people. He _doesn’t_ know everything. Even Naegi has taught him things. Does that mean he’s right?

Helping people sounds… utterly boring. Even though the title he’d been given is the Ultimate Hope, he has no desire to do any such thing. Why should he waste his talents on those so far below him?

Then again, his teachers also think it’s a waste when he focuses his talents on Naegi, and he knows for a fact that they are incorrect.

Are they incorrect about other things?

Naegi deflates when he doesn’t respond. “Kamukura…”

“I… will consider your words,” he concedes. It goes against everything he believes, but Naegi has surprised him before. And… somehow, the thought of Naegi being upset with him makes his stomach turn slightly.

Naegi cups his face, hands feeling warm against his cold skin. “Okay... That’s a good start, I guess.”

He leans down and kisses him. Kamukura feels disappointed when he only gets one, and Naegi settles back into his seat.

The smaller boy sighs as he surveys the stacks of books and his scattered notes. “Well… Since I’m just a normal person, I actually do need to study. You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to.”

“I can help.”

Naegi blinks in surprise. “Huh?”

“... If I’m going to help other people… I can start with you. Being the Ultimate Teacher would be simple for me.”

“You’ll tutor me?” Naegi asks, lips curling upwards.

He nods. Naegi rewards him with another quick kiss. The topics Naegi is studying are so simple that it makes Kamukura feel exhausted by how boring they are, but he perseveres. After all, he may be rewarded with more kisses if Naegi is satisfied with his help.

It turns out he’s right of course, and Naegi leaves him with tingling lips when they’re done.

* * *

“Kamukura,” Enoshima declares as she snoops around his lab, “you are seriously one freaky dude.”

She’s flipping through his sketchbooks, carelessly smudging charcoal and graphite, and he sees the painting he’d done of Naegi’s expression post-first kiss has been pulled off the wall and set down next to her. It irritates him, how casually she touches his things.

Once she’d learned how close he’d become to Naegi, she’d begun haunting his lab more and more often, critiquing his projects and snidely commenting on his boyfriend.

It’s so _annoying._

“I mean, I know he’s a likeable dude. Even my ugly sister likes him, can you believe it? But this,” she motions widely to his lab that is nearly covered in various projects of his efforts to perfectly encapsulate Naegi through art, “ _this_ is more than just liking him. This is weirdo stalker levels of obsession. Does he even know you made all this stuff?”

“... Get out.”

“Whaaaat? Don’t be so rude! I was just pointing it out,” she pouts, tossing the book in her hands aside and picking up a small clay model of Naegi sitting on one of Hope’s Peak’s benches. “God, you’ve got it hard. He’d probably think you’re a total freak if he saw all this.”

Kamukura stares at the discarded sketchbook, a strange, heated sensation coming over him. It doesn’t feel warm like it does when he’s with Naegi. It feels sharp and twists in his stomach. He picks the book up and straightens the crumpled pages out, carefully cataloguing the various drawings that Enoshima destroyed. He’ll need to redo them later.

“What the... Are you wearing lip gloss?”

He ignores her, and puts back up the painting. He’s especially partial to this one and doesn’t want it ruined.

“Y’know, now that I’m looking… Your skin looks way too good. What routine are you using? And what’s up with the hair clip? Thinking of finally giving me the boot as Ultimate Fashionista, are you?” She eyes him critically. “Pretty bad start if you are. That thing looks so tacky and cheap.”

The sharp feeling gets stronger and he frowns at her.

“Or… Are you wearing that for Naegi? He seems like the kinda guy to buy something like that.”

He nods. Her face twists in disgust.

“Ew.” She scowls before posing cutely, Fashionista persona in full force. “Well aren’t _you_ just the Ultimate Boyfriend? How much are you gonna change about yourself for him, huuuuh? Isn’t this just so unlike you though? Don’t you think Yasuke should take a look at you and make sure your head isn’t broken?”

“No.”

She pouts at his flat answer, twirling some hair around one of her fingers “Aren’t you getting so bored of him, though?” she asks. “Like, isn’t he basically the most normal person in this entire school? Isn’t that just awfully, terribly, despairingly _boring?_ ”

He frowns harder and impatiently repeats himself, “Get out.”

It only takes a second for her girlish, innocent facade to fall away, her eyes going cold and hard. “Give me a break. You want me to believe for even one second that you’ve actually got a heart in there? You want me to believe you’re going to choose a normal life with a normal guy like him? Sooner or later you’re going to realize how exhaustingly boring he is and you’ll be begging me for a taste of despair to excite you.”

Kamukura cannot deny that Naegi is a normal person, and that any other person like him he’d find so boring to talk to that he’d probably ignore their existence entirely. But he doesn’t feel that way about him. There’s something unique in him. Not just his Luck, either.

He shakes his head. “I won’t get bored.”

“You’re pretty fuckin’ confident for a guy who doesn’t have any feelings.”

“Get out.”

Her eyes glitter sharply with anger. “I wonder how he’d feel if he learned his precious boyfriend isn’t even a real person. That he’s just the leftover pieces of some useless Reserve student.”

With that, she turns on her heel and stomps out.

She’ll definitely cause him trouble, but he finds it too tiresome to bother stopping her. Spending even another second thinking about her feels unbearable. Instead, he goes to his desk and starts recreating the various drawings she’d ruined.

Even if he doesn’t have feelings, it doesn’t matter. He likes Naegi. Naegi likes him.

It doesn’t matter who he was before.

…

He pushes away his uncharacteristic uncertainty and pulls out his graphite.


	2. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura discovers a new emotion and doesn't like it. Thankfully, Naegi is there to reassure him. But Enoshima and Naegi's other classmates seem to have some issues of their own...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to write about something entirely different for this chapter but this is what came out instead. Some introspection, some poor choices, and we finally meet more of Naegi's classmates! Hopefully they're not OOC.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Well… This is it!” Naegi announces, opening the door to his dorm room. “It’s uh, not very exciting.”

Naegi had asked him earlier if he would like to ‘hang out’ in his room, rather than go to the library, as it had been lightly raining all evening and they couldn’t stay outside. Kamukura had been mildly intrigued at the prospect.

The room is the standard dorm that all Main Course students are given - a queen bed, some dressers, a desk, a television set, a table and a chair, and an attached bathroom. It appears Naegi has not personalized it whatsoever. The only marks someone actually exists inside of this space are some textbooks and papers on the desk, the sheets being slightly rumpled, and a spare hoodie thrown over the chair.

He walks in and breathes in the simple smell he associates with Naegi. The room is entirely predictable - he’s even designed small model rooms of what he’d predicated Naegi’s room to look like, to the disgust of his teachers, and he’d been nearly 100% accurate. Still, he manages to feel some interest in physically examining the room itself.

“I know a lot of the other students like spicing their rooms up with stuff related to their talents, but I don’t really have anything like that so…” Naegi scratches his cheek, looking embarrassed. “The bed is fancier, but other than that this is basically what my room at home looks like too… Basically, not very impressive.”

Perhaps Kamukura should gift him some things to display. Although, the only things he’s made all have Naegi as the focus, and he doesn’t seem the type who would enjoy the narcissism inherent in displaying such things. He supposes he could force himself to paint or sculpt something else for Naegi’s benefit.

Kamukura wanders to the bathroom and inspects it - or attempts to. The door doesn’t open, although he’s positive only the girl’s dorms have locks on their bathrooms. He turns the handle slowly, feeling the strange resistance. It’s not locked. The handle is broken.

“Oh, you have to lift the handle when you go in. For some reason, it keeps breaking every time they fix it… They gave up after the fifth time.”

More of his Ultimate Luck talent at play. The amount of bad luck he has is almost absurd.

He opens the door and peers inside, cataloguing the items inside. All of the brands Naegi uses are cheap and common, although he’s certain that Hope’s Peak could provide him with higher quality items upon request.

Once he’s done memorizing the various products, he turns his inspection to the dressers, opening the top drawer of the nearest one and poking through the clothing inside. There’s an assortment of plain white shirts next to some pairs of underwear. He’s reaching inside when Naegi runs over to him and grabs his arm.

“Kamukura, stop that,” Naegi scolds, cheeks red, trying vainly to pry him away from the dresser before he’s finished his inspection. “Come on! That’s a total invasion of privacy!”

He obediently steps away from the dresser and waits until Naegi wanders over to his table and begins putting away the scattered books, shooting him suspicious looks every other second, before he reopens the drawer.

“Kamukura!” Naegi whines.

“I’m learning. Be quiet.”

“Learning _what?!_ What kind of underwear I like to wear?!”

He pulls out one of the pairs of boxers, thumbing over the golden stars decorating the white fabric. “Yes.”

Naegi throws his hands up and gives in, muttering to himself under his breath as he finishes sorting out his desk and Kamukura returns the boxers to their place. He goes through the other drawers in sequence, examining the clothing in each. Most of them are well worn and soft unlike his own stiff suits.

“If you ever show me your dorm, I’m going to go poking around through all of _your_ stuff,” Naegi promises darkly.

Kamukura pauses briefly. Take him down there? Show him his ‘room’? His _lab?_ He slowly shuts the last drawer and ponders that. A large part of him doubts Naegi would respond negatively to his various studies, but Enoshima is not stupid. She’s much more connected to human emotions than he is. That is something he’s deeply lacking in - his teachers have not encouraged him to pursue any therapist talents.

It’s not altogether surprising they’ve ignored the humanist side of things, he supposes. After all, a person with emotions would be much more difficult to control than one without them, and they’d gone out of their way to suppress his in the first place.

He walks to the television set after that, turning it on and seeing the channel it was last on - a popular anime is airing. He turns it off, immediately bored by the show.

The entire room undergoes inspection as Naegi sits at his desk and watches him with a half-smile on his face.

“You kind of remind me of Kirigiri right now. She always gets into stuff like this. When she goes full detective mode, it’s always so cool. It’s really fun to watch her.”

Kirigiri Kyoko, the Ultimate Detective in the 78th class and one of Naegi’s classmates. He supposes the comparison is apt enough at the moment as he investigates his boyfriend’s room, but something inside him recoils at the utter fondness in Naegi’s voice as he talks about her. He may be disconnected from human emotions, but he is not stupid.

“... You like her.”

Naegi goes red and looks away, scratching his cheek. “Um, I guess so. But only as a friend!”

Kamukura’s jaw clenches. “Don’t lie.”

Naegi rocks back in his chair at his clipped tone, looking a little stunned. “What? Are… Are you mad at me?”

Is he? It doesn’t feel the same as it did when Enoshima was throwing his things around and ruining his studies, not nearly the same sharp, heated sensation that had twisted in his stomach. It feels more painful.

“I don’t know.”

“You sounded mad.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him wants to go back to his lab and stay there until this feeling goes away.

Naegi hesitates before standing and walking over to him, taking his hands and holding them, eyes earnest. “I didn’t mean to lie or anything. I _did_ have a crush on her before you and I started hanging out and I still think she’s awesome! But I don’t feel the same way about her anymore. I really do just think of her as my friend now.”

Kamukura feels the painful pressure in his chest ease a bit.

“... Do I bore you?”

Naegi frowns and tugs Kamukura closer to him. “Where’s this coming from?”

He bows his head to meet Naegi’s eyes, barrettes faithfully holding his hair out of his face. “We are very different. I do not have interests. I do not have hobbies. I do not share your excitement over anything. There’s nothing ‘fun’ about me. Therefore, I feel as though my presence… may be boring.”

For a person who loathes boring things, he’s allowed himself to become rather boring too.

Naegi’s thumbs sweep over the backs of his hands soothingly, lips curling into a smile. “I don’t think you’re boring at all. I’ve been really enjoying getting to know you, because you're so unique. And it doesn’t really bug me that you don’t like everything I do - a lot of my friends don’t have the same interests as me. You always listen anyways, even though it probably bores you to death, and that’s enough for me.”

“It is logical to prefer someone who appreciates the same things as you do.”

Naegi grimaces with a pinched expression. “I wasn’t kidding when I said most of my classmates don’t like the same things I do. A few weeks ago, Togami looked like he wanted to kill me when I asked him if he had seen a popular movie, and Fukawa seriously almost attacked me when I brought up manga when I met her… Even Kirigiri doesn’t stick around when I try to talk about things she’s not interested in. At least you listen. That’s more rare than you might think.”

“I see…” So he's not inferior yet.

“I didn’t realize you were so insecure about that kind of thing.” Naegi’s mouth curls up until he’s grinning, eyes curving shut. “It’s kind of cute.”

Insecure? Cute?

Naegi hops up to give him a kiss and then releases him, standing back with a determined expression. “I’m not going to get tired of you that easily. I’ve got a _lot_ of practice dealing with difficult people thanks to my class, and you’re not even close to the worst I’ve met. So you’re stuck with me!”

Kamukura rests a hand over his chest. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

“Do you feel a little better now?” Naegi asks, quirking his head.

Whatever he’d felt was entirely irrational, he realizes. He would have been able to notice if Naegi was uninterested. The boy is nothing short of an open book. How ridiculous… Though he must admit the irrational ache in his chest is gone, so he nods.

“Good.” He sounds relieved. “Now that that’s done… Are you done exploring my room?”

He still has the desk to inspect, but he’d rather do something else. He quickly gathers Naegi into his arms, ignoring the squeak of surprise, and deposits him on the bed. Before he can recover, Kamukura climbs onto the bed and curls up, laying halfways on top of him.

“You know, you _can_ just ask me,” Naegi sighs while wrapping his arms around Kamukura’s shoulders and holding him close.

This is a new experience. Naegi is usually sitting, and he’s laid out on his lap over a hard surface like a bench or a partition, but here he’s curled against his side, head pressed into the space between Naegi’s neck and shoulder. He’d noted the softness of the bed earlier, and the comforting smell of Naegi soaked into the sheets, but laying on it like this, held like this, is the most interesting thing he’s done all day.

“Tomorrow’s a free day for me,” Naegi says. “If you want, we can spend it together.”

Kamukura nods without hesitation.

Slowly the evening sunlight outside dims into night as they quietly enjoy one another’s company.

He can tell when Naegi begins slipping into a light sleep. He puts a hand over the smaller boy’s chest to feel the slowing, steady breaths. After a few more minutes, until he’s sure that Naegi is fast asleep, he slowly extracts himself.

His sleeping expression is something new. He likes it. Kamukura will study it more in depth another time. For now, he quietly slides off the bed after giving him a soft kiss, and exits the room.

He silently shuts the door behind him and turns to return to his room.

“Excuse me!”

Kamukura continues walking.

The offending student speedwalks towards him and blocks his path. “Ahem! I said, excuse me!”

Kamukura sighs.

“I would like to know what you were doing in Naegi’s room! You are not one of our classmates, and it is clearly after the respectable hour to be visiting another student’s room!” he shouts. “Have you no respect for the curfew?!”

He turns on his heel and walks the other way. The student - one he recognizes from being in Naegi's class - intervenes yet again, nearly jogging to keep up with him but not quite running. Kamukura is contemplating either violence or running himself, if either option was not infuriatingly annoying.

“As the Ultimate Moral Compass, I must issue you a notice for inappropriate behaviour!”

“Bro, what the hell are you yellin’ about?”

Kamukura physically restrains himself from cradling his forehead in annoyance as another student pokes his head out of his room and sidles over to them.

“Ah, brother!” Ishimaru Kiyotaka greets the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, Owada Mondo. “This person was just in Naegi’s room, _clearly_ after hours!”

“This guy?” the thuggish student says, eyeing Kamukura. “Ain’t this his boyfriend?”

Ishimaru is silent for a moment before his face goes red in fury. “B-B-Boyfriend?! After hours - You and he - _I won’t accept this!_ Naegi!”

Kamukura grabs his wrist in an iron hold when he goes to knock on Naegi’s door. He tightens it until Ishimaru nearly falls to his knees from pain. “You will not disturb him.”

Owada cracks his knuckles. “Oi, Naegi's boyfriend or not, you better lay off my bro -”

“It’s alright, bro,” Ishimaru says in a stiff voice, pain evident in his face.

“You will not disturb him,” Kamukura repeats and tightens his grip further, bones shifting under his hand. Ishimaru flinches and Owada snarls at him. “He is asleep.” And then, because he predicts Naegi will be upset if they assume incorrectly about their time spent together, he says, “Nothing untowards happened. Do you understand?”

Ishimaru chews at his lip and nods. Kamukura releases his wrist and turns to leave. He is not stopped this time.

* * *

Naegi wanders into the main area that connects the male and female first year dorms together, sleepily rubbing at his eyes. He’d woken during the night previous and found Kamukura gone. It hadn’t really bothered him until he’d suddenly found it more difficult to fall asleep without Kamukura’s weight on him.

Thinking about their almost-argument makes him smile again. Kamukura always seems so perfect, just shy of being inhuman, but even someone like him still worries about things like that. It’s reassuring. At the same time, his worries are a little silly. Naegi wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him if he found him boring, after all. To prove his point, he’s already agreed to spend today with Kamukura.

Typically, Hope’s Peak reserves some days out of the month for students to purely spend practicing their talents in the provided research labs. Naegi still doesn’t think he really has one despite Kamukura’s somewhat insulting reassurances about talents and usefulness, but he’s happy to take advantage of the day off anyways.

‘Talent’. It’s a complex topic, that’s for sure. He hasn’t asked about it again, but sooner or later he’ll need to make sure that Kamukura is taking it seriously, because for him… for a _commoner,_ as Togami would say, he’s happy with his life even though he doesn’t have anything amazing like his classmates do. Having a talent doesn’t have anything to do with being happy. And having ‘use’ doesn’t have anything to do with deserving a happy life.

He shakes off those thoughts. It’s still way too early in the morning to have such heavy topics floating around in his head.

Refocusing on the real world, he stops as he sees his classmates all gathered around in varying degrees of closeness, talking quietly amongst one another with Enoshima at the centre. Even Ishimaru is managing to keep his voice down. And - is that Togami willingly participating in whatever this is? He rubs his eyes again just to be sure, but nothing changes when he opens his eyes.

This is about as unsettling as it can get.

“Guys?”

They look over at him, conversation shutting down. Ishimaru frowns hard at him, gripping his arm, and Owada seems even moodier than usual. He feels uneasy.

“Um… What are you guys all doing?”

Enoshima answers first, bouncing out of the gathered group with a sweet smile on her face. “Morning, sleepy-head! Took you long enough to wake up!”

“Ah, I didn’t sleep very well. So, what are -”

“Oh, by the way, do you mind helping me study today? That math lesson yesterday totally kicked my ass, but you seem to be doing soooo well recently! You can help me, right?” Enoshima asks, fluttering her eyes and pouting her lips.

Ikusaba hovers at her shoulder. “I... would like to ask for help as well.”

She probably only wants an excuse to hang around Enoshima. He’d love to help them, though the only reason he’s been doing well is Kamukura’s tutoring. For some reason, he sincerely doubts that the other boy would be willing to tutor his classmates too, and he just doesn’t have time today.

“Maybe another time,” he says apologetically.

“Then, you shall accompany me today,” Celeste smiles. “As you are a C-rank, I would like to compare my gambling luck against your talent for my free studies today.”

Naegi laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to say no…”

She leans forward, bright red eyes shadowed and dark hair framing her face. Naegi jolts as he sees the striking similarities between her and Kamukura. “Unfortunately, I did not make a request. You _shall_ accompany me.”

He sweats under her intense stare. Sometimes he forgets how forceful she can be. “S-Sorry, but no. I promise to make it up to you another time though!”

He ignores Yamada’s babble in the back about disobeying the master. If Yamada wants to spend time with a scary girl like that, he can go ahead and make all the milk tea he wants...

“Hmph,” she sneers. “I’ll make you regret that.”

“I don’t doubt that...” He’s already regretting talking to his class. Somehow or another it always ends up this way.

“Well if you’re tired, I know the best way for me to get pumped up is to eat a bunch of donuts and then go for a few hundred laps in the pool!” Asahina jumps in. “So why don’t you come and hang out with me today? We can have a contest over who can eat the most!”

Ogami nods solemnly. “Light exercise is a wonderful way of energizing yourself.”

What is going on here? It’s not like he’s against hanging out with any of them, exactly, and he’s done so before, but they’ve never been this forward about it. He feels as though no matter how many times he turns them down, they’ll just keep asking. He turns to Kirigiri. “Is everyone okay? Today they all seem…”

She gazes at him with an edge of… something, arms crossed and as hard to read as ever. “The reason you’re denying their requests is because you’re already busy today.”

“Uh, yeah.” _Obviously,_ he doesn’t say.

“With Kamukura.”

“Yeah.”

Some of his classmates make disgruntled sounds, Enoshima groaning dramatically in the back. Ishimaru and Owada look especially upset as well for some reason.

Kirigiri sighs as Kuwata nudges her. Apparently she’s been delegated as their negotiator for… whatever this is. “Don’t you think you’ve been spending too much time with him?”

Oh. It’s an intervention.

“Not really… I mean, isn’t it normal? We _are_ dating...”

“But, in your room! And after hours…!” Ishimaru grits out, looking pained at the rule breaking.

Naegi laughs. “Ah, I didn’t mean to keep him for so long. We were just hanging out. I wanted to show him my room and then... I guess time just got away from us!”

Well, time got away from _him._ Kamukura probably knew exactly what time it was and didn’t care. He doesn’t want to say that to Ishimaru of all people though. If they already think he’s a bad influence for some reason, then he won’t make that any worse.

“No excuses!” Ishimaru roars. “I’m giving you detention! All day!!”

“D-Detention?! But…”

“As the Ultimate Moral Compass, I must insist you face the punishment for breaking the rules of curfew!”

“I already promised Kamukura that I’d spend time with him,” Naegi says, appealing against Ishimaru’s argument. “Isn’t it immoral to suddenly end plans without telling the other person? And this was only my first infraction. I promise not to do it again!”

Ishimaru flinches. “I-Immoral?! Is it?!”

“It would be rude,” Fujisaki agrees quietly. “Maybe you can text him?”

Naegi pauses at that. He’d never even asked Kamukura if he has a cell phone. “Um… I can’t do that. I don’t know if he even has a phone.”

“You don’t even know if he has a phone? And you guys are _dating?_ Come on, like we’d believe that,” Enoshima scoffs.

“It’s the truth!”

“Listen, Naegi,” she says, suddenly sweet as an angel, “we’re just worried about you, you know? Like - who even is this guy? You go from being a little social butterfly to _only_ spending time with him? A guy like that… Doesn’t he seem kind of dangerous?”

She's exaggerating. He still spends plenty of time with his class when Kamukura is busy doing whatever the Ultimate Hope does, although he will admit that a large portion of his free time is being taken up with his boyfriend. Are they just upset because of that? A small pang of guilt hits him for not realizing that his friends had been missing him. But more importantly...

“ _Dangerous_?” Naegi has to laugh again. Kamukura _could_ be dangerous, sure, with all of those talents knocking around in his head, but he’d be way too bored to ever do anything like that.

Kirigiri stops him up short. “Before you set yourself on denial, you should ask Ishimaru what he thinks about that.”

He looks at Ishimaru who holds his arm again, face grim. “What’s she talking about?”

When he hesitates, Owada thumps him on the back. “Go on, bro.”

Ishimaru grimaces and pulls back his sleeve to show some nasty purpling bruises on his forearm. Naegi can’t believe his eyes. Seeing Ogami or Owada with some bruises makes sense. Even Kuwata! The sportier types! But for Ishimaru, something like this is…

He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to even think it. But he asks, “Kamukura did this?”

Ishimaru nods. “Last night, I witnessed him leaving your room. I wanted to discuss the rules of curfew with you, and he grabbed my arm when I attempted to knock on the door.”

“Now do you see why we’re so worried?” Enoshima asks, patting his back sympathetically. He doesn’t _want_ to be comforted right now. There’s clearly some information he’s missing here! Kamukura wouldn’t do something like that for no reason!

“M-Maybe he didn’t realize how hard he was grabbing you!” Naegi stammers.

“Nah, he totally knew,” Owada says. “I was there. I saw it. He woulda broken bro’s arm if we didn’t back off. Sorry, man, but those are the facts.”

“You should just dump that creep!” Enoshima declares forcefully, some of the others echoing the statement. She seems to sense his utter rejection to that statement, and changes back to being sweet, rubbing circles onto his back. “I know it’s rough. Just stick with us for today, okay? Some of us will go and talk with him and tell him to leave you alone.”

… What? Naegi jerks away from her hand. “This is why you guys keep trying to get me to stay?”

“Well, if it’s dangerous…” Maizono says, looking worried.

“No way! I’m going to go talk to him and hear his side of the story too! That’s final.”

Kirigiri smirks at him and nods in approval. Enoshima doesn’t seem nearly as impressed. Her smile is more of a sneer when she says, “If you wanna get outta here, you’re going to have to get through us. We’re not going to let our _favourite_ Lucky student get stuck in some shit-show relationship.”

Ikusaba crouches in preparation to tackle him.

He quickly turns to Ogami. “You understand, right? I have to! If I don’t speak to him now, I’m going to regret it forever!”

She stares at him with her piercing gaze, weighing his words, until finally she nods. With a quick motion, she turns and grabs Ikusaba, hauling her into the air. Naegi doesn’t look back as he hears a fight break out in the common room, and runs until his legs feel like they’re going to give out.

He finally reaches the pathway that leads to the gardens he’s grown so familiar with and sees the dark figure of Kamukura waiting for him under one of the oaks.

One way or another, he’s getting an answer out of him, even if he doesn’t like what he hears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah young love. Relationship troubles abound. And very bad Kamukura! *sprays him with water*
> 
> Please do leave a comment, it makes my day and encourages me to write more!


	3. Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura has a gift he wants to give Naegi, but first they discuss bodily harm, rights and wrongs, and apologies. Then, Kamukura is introduced to a horrible new emotion.

“Izuru, today you must be present here at 3 pm, no excuses.”

He clicks off the television set he’d put together, wondering how it’s remotely possible for anyone to watch the incredibly boring garbage that Naegi seems to enjoy. Reality shows give him migraines. Anime makes him want to fall asleep out of sheer boredom. Pop idol concerts annoy him because he knows he could surpass them with even the barest sliver of effort.

Even after a full night of indulging in the various shows while he arranged a gift for Naegi, he still cannot understand what interest any of it could possibly hold.

Hinata - _his past self_ … would understand.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and drives off his sudden headache.

His teacher stands in front of him with crossed arms. “Izuru, are you listening? This is important. This is what you were made to do.”

Kamukura gazes at her impassively before turning away. It’s about time to leave. He doesn’t want to waste any more of his time listening to the demands of inferior people. He walks over to the mirror and ensures his hair is in perfect order, clipping one of the red barrettes in.

“A very important person is coming for surgery,” his teacher explains again, as though he simply didn’t understand the first time. “They must be taken care of. They’re a large source of funding for us.”

It is beyond even his ability to describe in words how little he cares.

“ _Izuru,_ ” she scolds. “You are our Hope. You must maintain focus on your talents. Nothing else matters.”

“Will this surgery provide me interest?”

She furrows her brow. “Interest? Whether it is interesting or not doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is ensuring the success -”

“If it is not interesting,” he bluntly interrupts, “then it does not matter to me.”

“And yet you waste your time with a Lucky student whose background check is so normal it’s almost insulting he was allowed in this school at all,” she responds in a clipped tone. “Explain that to me, Izuru. What is it that intrigues you so?”

What an utterly predictable, boring question from an utterly predictable, boring person. He does not wish to explain the various things he finds so interesting, so he simply replies, “His talent.”

“Luck?” she says incredulously. “If it were the student in the year above him, perhaps I could understand, but Naegi Makoto is not worth your time!” She rubs her forehead, muttering, “Honestly I feel like I’m talking to my little sister about her useless slob of a boyfriend cutting into her studies.”

The twinge of heated anger at her words makes him frown. “He is not useless.”

She seems prepared to argue that, but bites her tongue when he turns a cold glare to her. “... Fine, I won’t press that issue anymore. But the fact still remains that we _need_ you to be here today.”

“Get the Ultimate Surgeon.”

He knows they’ve kept in contact with that alumnus, and he also knows he’s currently in Japan. With a few hours notice, it would be simple to procure him.

“You really won’t obey?” his teacher asks.

He ignores her in favour of carefully wrapping up the painting he’d made during the night. This will be a gift for Naegi. It’s a mixture of Kamukura’s favourite colours, Naegi’s palette, mixed with bloody reds and browns so dark they would look black to the untrained eye. Making something like this is simple, almost insultingly so, but Naegi will be happy. That is enough to stomach the boredom.

“Izuru… I didn’t expect this from you. You’re supposed to be our Hope. We gave you everything you could have dreamed of, and you’re spitting in our faces.” She sighs as he puts on his jacket and shoes, still refusing to acknowledge her further. “I’ll see what I can do for today, but this cannot go on forever. Think carefully about what you were created to do.”

He knows very well what he was created for. But…

“I did not ask to be created.”

His teacher looks stunned at that. He takes his leave before she can say any other inane things.

* * *

The weather is clear in the morning as Kamukura leaves his lab with his bundled package under his arm. That most likely means he will not be invited to Naegi’s room. He sighs in mild irritation.

It had been a fascinating experience that he would rather enjoy participating in again.

The walk is quiet as he heads towards the familiar garden pathways. Many of the students will be in their research labs, or else they’ll be outside of the school in the real world, practicing their talents and proving they deserve their places at the Academy.

Naegi’s Luck is more of a nuisance than anything, and not easily quantifiable. Seemingly random, but in reality it is very targeted at times. The same door handle breaking five times? The chances of that are miniscule at best. Two vending machines side by side, one working and one not? And that’s not mentioning their meeting, when a piece of the school’s facade had cracked off and nearly killed him.

Kamukura still has yet to pinpoint exactly the activation trigger for Naegi’s talent, but he has all the time in the world to do so.

He stops under a large oak, settling his painting onto a bench, and he waits.

After a few minutes, he turns to see Naegi running towards him, expression determined and worried. Kamukura watches quietly as Naegi comes to a stop, chest heaving as he gulps down air, and his hair sticking up out of place. This is new.

“K… Kamukura,” Naegi manages through gasps.

He reaches out and gently pushes Naegi’s hair back into place. He feels how Naegi leans into his palm before straightening back out and taking a step back.

“I really need to talk to you,” Naegi says after a moment, once he’s caught his breath and calmed down. He still hasn’t smiled at him, nor given him a kiss. Combined with his refusal to be touched, he comes to a conclusion: Naegi is upset.

Kamukura turns and takes his wrapped painting. Naegi becomes happy when Kamukura gifts him lunches, so naturally he should also be happy to be given something of this calibre as well. It was made with him in mind, after all. Then things will go back to normal.

It does not evade his notice that ‘normal’, something he once held in such disdain, is now what he desires.

He pulls back the cover and presents it to Naegi.

Naegi blinks in surprise. “What’s this? Did you make this?”

“For you.”

Naegi’s jaw drops. He reaches out to touch it but stops himself, shaking his head and pulling his hand away. Kamukura feels somewhat… hurt at his rejection. “It’s amazing, but please hold on a minute. I need to talk to you first. It’s really important to me.”

Kamukura obligingly covers it again at the tension in Naegi’s voice. He will present it again once this conversation is done and then perhaps Naegi will praise it and _then_ they can go back to normal. He nods to himself and allows himself to be pulled to the bench and sits down next to Naegi who pushes against him when he goes to lay down.

Even more abnormal.

Naegi rubs his hands together anxiously. “So… I… don’t know how to ask this, so I’ll just come out and say it. Did you hurt one of my classmates last night?”

“Yes.”

Naegi leans away from Kamukura and nods, lips turned downwards and brow pinched. “Why’d you do that?”

“He was going to wake you.”

Naegi’s previous struggle to maintain his composure shatters. “Just for that?! His arm was really bruised! Just because he was going to wake me up is absolutely no reason to grab someone that hard!”

Kamukura tilts his head at Naegi’s outburst of anger. He feels no regret for what he did. He had nearly pushed the memory completely out of mind, that is how little of an impact on his life it had. Ishimaru has a talent so he cannot be called ‘useless’, but he is still nothing more than a mild irritation to him.

“I did it for you. I believed you would be upset to be awoken for something so boring.”

Naegi looks as though his answer had caused his physical pain, grimacing with gritted teeth. “Don’t say that. I don’t ever want anyone hurt because of me! That’s just horrible!”

“Then I should have simply let him wake you?”

“Yes! Or found a different way to handle it - you’re smart enough! I’m sure you could have come up with something!”

“That way was the most efficient. I do not understand the issue.”

“You don’t understand the…?” The look in Naegi’s eyes shifts into incredulity. He carefully takes Kamukura’s hands and speaks to him in the tone one would with a child, “Kamukura… I’m not trying to insult you or anything, but do you know _why_ what you did was wrong?”

Kamukura blinks.

“You know that hurting someone for basically any reason is wrong? Right?”

Kamukura frowns. He’s never been given any reason to believe that. His teachers naturally instructed him that he should never utilize any of his physical or hostile talents against them, but he had been trained extensively in them in preparation for whenever they would need him to perform an assassination. They had never discussed with him bodily harm to others - most likely because he had never been intended to socialize outside of his teachers.

“Oh, wow... For someone as smart as you are, you really don’t know a lot of things, Kamukura.”

So this is yet another example of common knowledge he does not possess.

“You can’t just hurt someone just because they’re doing something you don’t like,” Naegi says, squeezing his hands for emphasis. “You should only do that kind of thing if they’re doing something _really_ bad, like… I don’t know, attacking someone else, or breaking a law, or… That kind of thing.”

Kamukura pulls away his attention from Naegi’s warm grasp long enough to respond. “That seems incorrect.”

“What about it seems incorrect?”

“I did not permanently harm him, nor was it an injury that would affect his daily life in any meaningful way. Why should I have chosen a different method if there was no large impact on either of us?”

“Okay, first off: it seems like you really scared him, and that kind of damage can’t just be ignored even though you can’t see it. All of my class was really worked up this morning about it! A fight even broke out… even though that was my fault, I guess.”

Kamukura must admit that he did intend to leave a short lasting psychological effect on the two students in order to ensure they would obey his instructions even after he had left, but to incite such a riot in the entire class would take more than just that.

“I almost didn’t get away from them,” Naegi says, ruffling his hair in slight embarrassment. “If Ogami didn’t help me out, Ikusaba would’ve probably knocked me out.”

Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier. So that means then… “Enoshima Junko wanted to prevent you from seeing me.”

“Yeah. Her more than anyone, it felt like.” Naegi laughs a little, expression turning fond. “I didn’t know if she even cared about me. Most of the time she’s just playing pranks on everyone, but I think she was the reason they all got together and tried to protect me in their own ways.”

Of course she was the reason for all of this. How easy it would be for her to take a pebble and make it into a mountain.

“Anyways, back to the issue. Even if you don’t think what you did was that mean, or if you thought it wouldn’t affect him that badly, it isn’t up to you to make that decision.”

“I used my talents to analyze -”

Naegi shushes him. “Your talents are amazing, but this isn’t about just what you _factually_ think is correct or not. It’s about other people’s feelings too. And Ishimaru felt hurt. He felt like he was in danger. And that isn’t okay, especially for something as simple as knocking on my door.”

“What he felt was illogical.”

Naegi pulls one hand away and rubs at his forehead, clearly still troubled by his answers. Then his face clears and he excitedly shifts in his seat as he does when he’s completed a difficult algebra question. “Okay, okay. Look at it this way. What if… I was going to knock on Ishimaru’s door after hours because I needed to talk to him, but Owada didn’t want me to. So then Owada hurting me would be okay, since he was stopping me from disturbing Ishimaru. Right?”

Kamukura knows that logically the answer would be ‘yes’, considering their conversation so far, but he does not want to say yes. Imagining Naegi being hurt and scared over something so _miniscule_ is…

“Ah…” Kamukura wants to wrap Naegi up into a hug and not let go imagining something like that. It’s a strange sensation. “I understand.”

“Yes!” Naegi cheers. “I knew you would.”

Kamukura feels relieved at his smiling face. He’s not upset anymore.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you thought about it like that, with your talents, but thinking about how other people feel is important too,” Naegi lectures. Kamukura nods obediently, although the concept is still foreign. “Good. I think you should apologize to Ishimaru. Then everyone can stop freaking out and everything’ll go back to normal.”

Normal. That’s good. He nods again.

“Okay! But first I’d really love to see your painting again.”

The unveiling of the painting goes much better this time. Kamukura pulls back the cloth wrapping and takes care to memorize the way Naegi’s expression shifts into wonderment and glee. This is among his favourite expressions on Naegi’s face. Even after all of his attempts to immortalize it in art, there is something unique about seeing it in the flesh.

“Wow… You really made this for me?”

“Yes. For your room.”

Naegi traces around one of the areas of red with a delicate touch. “This part reminds me of you.”

“It’s designed to be a mixture of the both of us.”

A faint shade of pink dusts across Naegi’s face as his smile goes softer. He beckons Kamukura closer, curling one hand against his jaw and the other resting over the one Kamukura has holding the painting, pressing their lips together firmly.

Kamukura tilts his head slightly to the angle where their mouths slot together perfectly, eyes half-lidded to watch Naegi’s face. He doesn’t like missing any moment of this.

Their knees press together as Naegi leans further into him, turns his body until they’re seamlessly attached along their bodies up to their chests. Even through the bulky clothing Naegi tends to favour wearing, Kamukura can feel the warmth of him bleed through, seeping into him.

Kamukura is always cold, skin almost frigid, but he remembers how it used to be before. Hinata was warm like this.

That thought sours in his stomach, climbs up his chest like rising bile. Suddenly his skin feels as though it doesn’t fit right, like it’s too small or the wrong shape. Like he’s a foreigner inside of his own body. Why can’t he stop thinking about before? That person is dead. He wants to rip out every last piece of those memories so that he can stop _thinking about it._

He wants to think about this, instead, about the mint still on Naegi’s breath from when he’d just woken up and ran to him, about how soft his hands feel, about how his pulse thuds in response to Naegi’s fingers curling through his hair.

The irritating pulsing ache in his head lessens as he focuses on the blunt nails drawing patterns through his hair and on his scalp, fingers carding through some thick strands of hair. His thumb draws circles on the thin skin of Kamukura’s hand still cradling the painting on his lap, touch gentle and soothing.

When Naegi pulls away with a flushed face and a satisfied smile, Kamukura feels settled back into his skin.

Naegi’s brow furrows slightly when he opens his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Kamukura wonders what it is about him in that instant that’s making Naegi look concerned. His expression is the same as always. “I’m fine.”

Naegi looks unconvinced. Still, he stands up, Kamukura rising with him like a magnetic pull. “Alright, let’s go then. We can head back to the dorms and see if Ishimaru’s around, then we can go put up your painting in my room.” He scratches his cheek and sighs. “... Hopefully the dorm is still in one piece.”

* * *

Naegi’s body language screams shock and dismay as they stand in the entrance to the first year common area. “It’s a warzone in here!”

The students have dispersed for the most part, only the two combatants and a few observers in the room still remaining. The Ultimate Martial Artist, Ogami Sakura, and the Ultimate Soldier, Ikusaba Mukuro, circle one another in the destroyed area, upturned couches and shattered glass littering the room.

Naegi takes a step into the room and snaps a fragment of wood under his foot. As though on signal, the two fighters fly at one another, Ogami using her exceptional form and strength to keep Ikusaba on her toes, and Ikusaba using her smaller and lighter frame to evade. Kamukura observes them idly, digesting their combat styles and configuring methods to defeat them.

They both seem to be smiling amidst their exchanged blows, sweat dripping down their brows. Ikusaba pulls a knife from her skirt - not the first, going by the shattered remnants of knives around their feet.

“Y-You guys!”

The two girls ignore Naegi’s yelp.

“Oi, you’re back,” Owada greets from further in the room, seated comfortably on some cushions from the destroyed couches. Enoshima sits next to him with a bland expression on her face that turns into a volatile mixture of sweetness and vitriol. “And… that bastard’s here with ya.”

“Owada!” Naegi jogs towards him.

Kamukura sees Enoshima’s eyes flicker back to her sister’s fight, face morphing into gleeful smile. His eyes trace her gaze’s path and - 

His heart clenches tightly in his chest, freezing his breath in his lungs.

\- sees a shard of metal as it flies towards Naegi’s head - or it would have, if Naegi had not simultaneously tripped on a torn curtain, and landed safely on Owada’s cushion pile, completely removing himself from danger without realizing it.

The fight continues on in the background without a pause, the two girls so deeply entwined with one another that they perhaps did not even notice the knife shrapnel.

Kamukura drops the metal shard, pulse pounding in his throat again so strongly he feels nauseous, skin clammy. What is this feeling?

Owada and Enoshima both look startled.

“You alright?!” Owada asks, helping Naegi righten himself.

Kamukura’s legs feel both leaden and soft at the same time, like he’s wading through water towards Naegi. Enoshima watches with critically sharp eyes as he nearly stumbles towards them. He feels something crack and looks down, seeing the painting destroyed in his hand. He must have crushed it during his extreme emotional state. He tosses it aside.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” Naegi sounds confused. “I just tripped.”

Owada slaps a hand to Naegi’s back with a relieved sigh. “Man… You don’t even know half the shit you get away with, do ya?”

Kamukura drops to his knees and gathers Naegi against him, lungs stuttering as he begins breathing again.

“Kamukura, what’s wrong?”

“... I… don’t know.”

Naegi picks his face up out from where he’d shoved it against the slim area of Naegi’s neck not covered up by his hoodie, cradling his face in his hands as Kamukura tries to crawl closer. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

Owada makes an unhappy sound. “No wonder he does. Christ, Naegi…”

Kamukura pushes forwards again and nuzzles against Naegi’s face.

Naegi sighs and simply hugs him. “I... don’t get it.”

“I’m surprised you’re just letting that guy sit next to you like that,” Enoshima pipes up, interrupting their conversation. “After what he did to your _bro_.”

Owada rubs the back of his head and looks away from them with a scowl. “Feh… How the hell am I supposed to get pissed _now_ when he jumped in to save Naegi like that? And besides, it’s not like I don’t get how much Bro can set you off. I nearly went fist to fist with him back when we started classes. We all just got really worked up over nothing this morning.”

“‘Nothing’?” she repeats tonelessly.

“Oh right,” Naegi says, petting Kamukura’s hair soothingly in a nearly subconscious motion. “Actually, we came here so Kamukura could apologize for last night.”

“‘Apologize’?” she repeats again.

“Yeah, do you guys know where Ishimaru is?”

“In his room,” Owada answers. “We had to make him go and stay there so he’d stop trying to get in between those two chicks. Fujisaki’s with him.”

Naegi nods and coaxes Kamukura to stand, awkwardly turning in Kamukura’s grasp when he refuses to let go. “Thanks, Owada.” The biker waves him off. Naegi seems to realize then that Kamukura’s hands are both free. “Oh, where’d your painting go?”

Enoshima’s up in a flash, over to the half-covered, half-destroyed canvas. She picks it up with the tips of her fingers, holding it out as one would with trash. “Uh oh,” she says with crocodile tears in her eyes. “Looks like it’s totally broken! How utterly despairful!”

A small wave of tension rolls through Naegi. He can feel it under the palms of his hands. “I’ll make a new one,” he promises before Naegi can feel despair.

“But… still… All your hard work!”

Kamukura shakes his head, rubbing their cheeks together. “I’ll make a new one for you.”

Naegi sighs, breath gusting warmly along Kamukura’s neck and sending a shiver down his spine. “Fine. If you’re sure. Then let’s go see Ishimaru. Owada, you’re staying here?”

Owada grunts. “Yeah, once they’re done fighting each other into passing out, they’re gonna need someone to take ‘em back to their rooms. I promised Fujisaki I’d stay and help out, and that’s a man’s promise.”

He slowly pulls himself out of their embrace enough that Naegi can walk properly, pressing their sides together and resting his cheek onto Naegi’s hair. His pulse has calmed again and his stomach feels less like it’s about to turn inside out. That emotion he’d felt… He never wants to feel it again. It was awful. To think the Luck he’d always been so fascinated by could induce such a terrible feeling in him.

He can feel Enoshima staring daggers into their backs as Naegi guides him into the boy’s dorms and towards Ishimaru’s room.

“Let’s go see Ishimaru and then maybe we can grab something to eat. I’m pretty hungry. What do you think?”

“... Okay.” As long as he doesn't have to let go.

They stop in front of a door not far away from Naegi’s. After a quick knock, the door swings open, revealing Ishimaru and the Ultimate Programmer, Chihiro Fujisaki standing not far behind him.

Ishimaru stares at them for a moment before catching himself and shouting, “Hello, Naegi and associate!”

Fujisaki waves at them with a cautious look in his eyes. “Are they still fighting?”

“Yeah, they are,” Naegi says, curling his arm a little tighter around Kamukura’s waist in an attempt to comfort him. “Ishimaru, about yesterday… We talked, and I think Kamukura just didn’t understand that he’d hurt or scared you as bad as he did. But he does now! And he’s willing to apologize, if you’re willing to hear him out.”

Ishimaru seems speechless again. It takes Fujisaki nudging him for him to snap out of it. “O-Oh. I see! Well, as the Ultimate Moral Compass… Of course! Please go ahead!”

Kamukura bows his head slightly. “I apologize for my actions. In future, I will resolve the situation in a less hostile manner.”

Ishimaru nods sharply. “I accept your apology!”

“Ah, really?!” Naegi asks in shock. Then he beams. “I’m glad!”

“Of course! I approve of Kamukura’s ability to recognize his actions! I also regret letting things escalate, especially this morning! I should not have allowed Enoshima to incite such a riot before speaking to you personally.” Ishimaru bows. “Please forgive me, Naegi!”

“Oh… I forgive you?”

“Fantastic!” Ishimaru rightens with a bright smile and boisterous laugh. “Would you both like to come in and spend some time while we wait for tempers to settle down out there?”

“I’d love to,” Naegi says. Kamukura feels himself stiffen slightly. “But maybe another time, if that’s okay.”

Ishimaru gives them a short bow. “Naturally! Please have a good day.”

“Bye Naegi,” Fujisaki waves. “B… Bye, Kamukura.”

Naegi waves goodbye for them both and the door shuts, leaving them alone in the hallway where it’s quiet and Kamukura can focus more readily on Naegi’s warmth against his side.

“That went really well.” He can hear the smile in Naegi’s voice. “Let’s go, then.”

Together they turn and walk through and out of the dorms towards the cafeteria. Kamukura matches his pace to Naegi’s, walking plastered to his side. He doesn’t want to let go. Every day with Naegi he is learning and feeling something new.

And today’s lesson had been sheer terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura has some identity issues cropping up. He's just doing his best. The apology scene might seem rushed but class 78 seem like they get easily riled up but also easily calmed down. Without our friend Junko around to stir things up, the conversation goes a lot more smoothly.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! It really makes my day :)


	4. Paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura experiences the beginnings of the emotional ramifications from Naegi's brush with death. Then he makes the mistake of talking to Enoshima.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of an intermediary chapter that puts some characterization in order and builds plot points I'll circle back to later.
> 
> Enjoy!

As promised, they had gotten food together. Naegi had eaten, delighting in the food although he’d taken care to mention how it didn’t compare to Kamukura’s cooking. Meanwhile, Kamukura had struggled to keep even a few bites down and easily surrendered the rest of his food for Naegi to eat as well.

The sensation of being slightly off-kilter had remained the entire day, a panicked buzzing rising in the base of his skull whenever Naegi went out of sight or strayed too close to potential hazards. Never before had he felt so keenly aware of Naegi’s bad luck and the possibility that it could activate at any time.

How has he managed to survive for so long in a world with such luck set against him?

Eventually he had simply scooped Naegi into his arms against his protest and retreated back to the younger boy’s dorm before anything bad could happen. It had _not_ been paranoia - such an illogical notion could not be applied to him. It had simply been the most efficient way of spending their day together while ensuring Naegi did not meet a premature death.

* * *

_“Um, not that I’m unhappy to be spending time alone with you or anything, but isn’t this boring for you?” Naegi asks after he’s recovered from being deposited in his room after being carried across the entirety of the Academy’s grounds, cheeks still dusted red with embarrassment. “Just sitting around in my room I mean.”_

_“... It’s fine.”_

_“You’ve been weird today,” Naegi says dubiously. “You looked really sick earlier and you barely ate, too. If you’re not feeling well then you should take some medicine and rest up. I don’t mind.”_

_“I am not unwell.”_

_“Then what’s the big deal? Owada mentioned something about it too earlier...” He looks a little frustrated, pouting as he shrugs his jacket off. “I feel like I’m missing out on something!”_

_“You were in danger.”_

_“Cause of Ogami and Ikusaba? I guess so, but not anymore than the rest of you, right?”_

_Kamukura is reminded sharply one again of how little awareness Naegi truly has. It must be a uniquely small life to live, concerned with nothing except the obvious in front of his eyes. It is unfathomable to Kamukura. “Your talent is dangerous.”_

_Naegi laughs away the edge of concern in Kamukura’s voice. “That’s so dramatic. Just because I have a little bad luck now and then doesn’t make it dangerous. Mostly annoying. Still, I can’t help but feel like I am truly lucky.”_

_Kamukura takes off his shoes and puts them tidily next to Naegi’s. “Is that so?”_

_“Yeah. I mean if I hadn’t gotten lucky and won the lottery to get into this school, I’d never have met anyone at this school. I wouldn’t have met you.” The red that had been fading from Naegi’s face is back in force, staining the tips of his ears down to his neck._

_Kamukura mulls that thought over as he follows Naegi’s lead of sitting on the bed, ignoring the inane garbage on the television as it flicks on. If he had not met Naegi… Surely, he would have accepted Enoshima’s original offer to fall into despair. The world would have been put on a nearly irreversible path of utter destruction._

_Naegi would have suffered. His unlucky nature would have ensured it._

_“Is this show okay? If you’d rather watch something else, that’s fine with me,” Naegi says._

_The television flashes bright colours and loud sounds that mean utterly nothing to him. It’s nonsensical and boring. But the tone in Naegi’s voice indicates he’d prefer to watch this. “This is fine.”_

_Naegi beams at him and leans against his shoulder as he watches._

* * *

He had been so _alive_ next to him. Warm. Comforting. And all too fragile.

The rest of the day had passed largely in that manner. Naegi excitedly explaining the ‘intricate’ plots of the shows and movies they watched, eagerly pulling up supplementary material on his phone to show him. Kamukura had naturally listened, compartmentalizing the information into a small mental box full of useless information.

They had even managed to secure a delivery of food from the cafeteria when Kamukura had refused to budge from the safety of the room.

The only minor inconvenience they’d had is Naegi stumbling over his own footing and banging a hip into the side of his dresser.

Eventually night had fallen again, and Naegi had sleepily smiled about sleepovers and how he hadn’t had one since he was young, and that the Moral Compass would surely combust if he knew that they were about to share a bed for the night.

Naegi had demurely changed in the bathroom, and Kamukura had obligingly taken off his suit jacket and tie when Naegi worried over how comfortable it would be for him to sleep. Not that he really has any intentions of sleeping at all. What if something happened while he was asleep?

 _Again,_ it is _not_ paranoia. It’s simply… logical to wonder about.

Which brings Kamukura to lying quietly in the dark, mind still buzzing as Naegi sleeps peacefully next to him. He had begun deeply contemplating blunting the edges of his dressers and desk after ruminating further on the tripping accident earlier - all it would take is tripping and tumbling headfirst into one of them for Naegi to severely hurt himself.

If it happened without Kamukura there, when he was alone - if it happened during the night and no one was there to help him… It would be disastrous.

But that would be ridiculous. Even Naegi could not manage such a thing.

Surely not.

  
  
  


Kamukura gets up silently and puts his shoes on. He has files in his lab, he’ll quickly head back to grab some and then return to dull the edges in Naegi’s room.

No one disturbs him this time and he sprints his way back to his underground housing.

At the door he pauses, listening. There is someone inside and this is far beyond the normal hours of when his teachers would be visiting. There is an extremely low chance that they would attempt to assassinate him for one misdemeanor, which leaves one highly likely probability.

The door opens without a sound under his hand and his suspicions are proven correct.

Enoshima.

She’s here in his lab again, rifling through his things. Her motions seem less hostile this time, less destructive towards what he’s created, more… respectful. Careful. She’s analyzing every inch of Naegi’s faces in Kamukura’s strokes of paint, tracing his features on the small clay sculptures with a gentle touch.

The painting of Naegi’s face glowing when he’s under the sun and framed by carefully tended gardens, one of Kamukura’s favourite images, taken down with soft hands, inspected with care, and replaced. An animated flip book of Naegi first tripping headfirst into Kamukura’s utterly boring life is flipped through once, then twice. The kiln-fired figures allowing him to immortalize every fascinating pose he would sometimes make - like the passionate way he’d stood over Kamukura and shouted about talents - cradled in her hands as she turns them to examine every inch of them.

There’s a purpose in her actions. Her analytical mind is consuming every detail, searching for something inside of the things Kamukura has created.

He steps into his lab and stalks silently towards her.

“You know, we’re pretty similar,” she says without turning when he’s halfway across the room. Her voice is laiden with a heavy emotion, one that he feels as though he recognizes now although he doesn’t know what to name it. “I’m in love with someone too.”

His heart thuds painfully in response to that word and he freezes, a hook inside of his chest tugging him up short. ‘Love’. Is that what he’s feeling? Is that the emotion in her voice?

She aims a smile over her shoulder at him. Her face is open and peaceful - no sign of her bitterness or her sugary persona. “Even in this utterly horrible, boring world… Sometimes I think I wouldn’t mind if everyone else vanished and it was only me and Yasuke left. Can you imagine? Someone like me, being that happy to just _be_ with someone?”

Only the two of them left in the world? If it were just him and Naegi…

No teachers to annoy him, or put expectations on him. None of Naegi’s classmates to irritate him. No one who could put his boyfriend in danger. No one to disturb them. Kamukura could provide everything they could ever need - food, water, power, anything. In a world like that, he would have everything he wants.

But… Naegi would be unhappy. He knows that. Without his friends or family, he would be lonely, even with Kamukura at his side.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you’re feeling right now,” she says with a sigh. “Your feelings and his feelings aren’t on the same level. I’d happily live out my entire life wrapped up in Yasuke if there was no one else, but Yasuke… I think he’d probably end up hating me sooner or later.”

Naegi would… never hate him. He does not know if Naegi even has the capacity for hatred anywhere in his heart. It’s doubtful. But he would stop loving him the same way. He would grow desolate without his family, and Kamukura, who has no need for family, who feels no remnant of a connection to Hinata’s family, would never be able to console him.

Sooner or later, that desolation and inconsolability would become bitterness poisoning their relationship until it rots.

Between himself and Enoshima, Kamukura had clearly noted their thin thread of connection - both of them being bored of a world that they were far too aware of, that could never shock or intrigue them, damned to an existence of waiting for _anything_ that could make them break out of their own minds for just a moment. Perhaps that is why he willingly suffered her presence to begin with.

However he had not expected their connection to be this deep. She’s like a shattered mirror of him. Or... perhaps it’s the inverse. After all, he’s the manufactured one. The fake one.

“I could see it in your face earlier when our dear Naegi almost got skewered,” she says, motioning idly to her own face as emphasis. “I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw how you looked when you saw the knife blade coming. I mean, Yasuke supposedly pulled all the shit that lets you feel out of your head. But looking at all this stuff again I can see it. You really, truly love him, huh?”

He pictures the shock in her eyes when he’d snatched the metal shard out of the air. What had his face looked like to her? Naegi had said he seemed ill, and he’d _felt_ ill, sick to his stomach imagining what would have happened if he had not reacted and Naegi’s luck had not activated. Even imagining it now makes his stomach twist angrily and lungs feel tight.

“It feels like shit, doesn’t it?” she laughs joyfully, still without bitterness despite her words. “It feels like total, utter, hellish shit, but we still can’t help ourselves.”

“Mass media preaches the beauty of love,” he says instead of addressing how accurate her words feel.

“They’re just a bunch of shit for brains. This is the real kind of love. Despair-inducing love.”

So this is the despair she promised to show him. The despair she promised would excite him. It’s true that he finds it exciting. It moves him in ways nothing else has. Even with his newfound terror, he finds that he does not desire severing the connection Naegi and he have forged, eager to experience more new sensations.

“Is this truly despair?” he asks. “Is despair not suffering?”

“Come on. That fear you had? Was that not suffering? Are you not _still_ suffering just thinking about it? And thinking about how Naegi could never be happy with _just_ you, is that not suffering? Love is all about suffering.”

“So love... is despair.”

“That’s right! And I’ll tell you the secret to utter despair, even stronger than that,” she says conspiratorially, leaning in with a crooked smile. “You’ll feel utter despair like nothing else in the entire world, so much despair you’ll choke on it. It’ll be the worst-best thing you’ll ever feel. You’ll never stop drowning in despair!”

He’s intrigued. Feel more? Feel something so much that he’ll never _stop_ feeling it?

“The secret to despair is that… you… gotta... _kill him._ ”

“No,” he answers reflexively. Without Naegi, his life would become pointless yet again. Even to cure his mind-numbing boredom, he can’t.

“I know it’s hard to imagine, but everything you’re feeling right now? Picture that a hundred times - no! A _thousand_ times stronger. Doesn’t that sound bone-chillingly amazing?” Enoshima squeals in excitement, face flushing at the mere thought. “Have you ever thought about how easy it would be? You could stab him, burn him, drown him, strangle him, chop him into tiny pieces - the possibilities are _endless_!”

It _would_ be easy. Naegi is too trusting and far physically weaker than him.

“Just sticking a knife into his stomach would be enough to kill him,” she continues, and he can envision the strained look of betrayal perfectly. “Or if that’s too gruesome you could just suffocate him in his sleep. But in _my_ opinion, getting all messy would be better. It sounds way more despairful.”

He feels the beginnings of nausea swirling in his stomach, settling like a stone at the base of his throat that he can barely swallow around.

“If I killed Yasuke, I’d want it to be messy. I’d wanna get _allll_ covered in blood to remember him by. Sometimes I think about just going ahead and doing it, but I want it to happen naturally,” she says in a love-struck tone of voice, eyes spiralling in reds and blacks. “Don’t you think that would be the greatest expression of love of all?”

“No,” he says again, a bit more coldly. “To waste his life for momentary satisfaction is inexcusable.”

“‘Momentary’?! Who the hell said anything about momentary?!” she says angrily, snapping out of her despairing spiral. “Didn’t I say you’d be feeling despair forever? Just think about it! If you truly love him, you’d never ever ever _ever_ forgive yourself for killing him! You’d feel such utter despair for the rest of your life that you’d never feel a moment of boredom! Not ever!”

“This conversation is over.” He turns away from her and heads to his supplies cabinet, pulling out various files.

She struts over to him with a wide smile on her face. “That’s fine. I’ve put the idea in your head and you’ll never be able to _un_ hear it. Every single time you get bored, you’re gonna remember what I said, and you’re gonna think to yourself… _What if I just killed him?_ And that’s not ever going to leave your head.”

He weighs the file in his hand and considers shoving it in her throat. The victory in her voice grates on his nerves.

He’s done entertaining her twisted logic.

“Enoshima. Leave. Do not ever return to this place.”

“Or else what? You gonna kill me?” she questions, a long red nail tapping at her chin thoughtfully, eyes gleaming ever so slightly red. “If you do, my ugly sister is going to tell Naegi allll about you, and tell him you killed me. I bet he’d be doubly heartbroken - not only was his boyfriend an utter fucking phony, but he murdered one of his classmates!”

Kamukura shuts the cabinet. It would be easy enough to dispose of them both.

“I bet you’re thinking it would be easy to just kill both of us then. Between you and Naegi’s terrible luck, I wonder if you’d be able to stop her in time.”

“Do not underestimate me.”

Her goading him so openly makes him reluctant to commit to such a drastic course of action, however. Surely she would have alternative options of exposing his secrets. He would most likely need to kill Matsuda, and other associates of hers he is not currently aware of.

Her eyes are just as cold as his. The sensation of looking into a crooked mirror returns. “Y’know what? I think that dying to bring Naegi utter despair wouldn’t be so bad. He is one of my beloved classmates after all.”

Kamukura does not believe she would kill Naegi or harm him directly, but that does not mean she will not hurt him in other ways. After all, how can one bring despair to a dead man?

“Enoshima… I will say this once. Do not _ever_ touch him.”

Her demeanor softens into something girlish and sugary, her false mask drawing back onto her face. The only hint of her true self is the glint of red in her eyes. “Eek! Wow, you sounded just like a real hero just then! I’m suuuuper scared!”

This persona of hers is unbearable. He’s said what he must, and he’s made it clear exactly what he will do if she steps out of bounds. No matter how many he must kill, he will ensure that this spark that has entered his life - this… _love_ that has grown in his heart on pure accident, will never be snuffed out by her.

With nothing left to say, he takes his files and sandpaper and leaves his lab behind, Enoshima watching him go with a jaunty wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enoshima.... I love you, you're awful. I read a few pieces of meta about her character that led to me writing her this way. I genuinely find her a very interesting character, but she's a bad mix with an emotionally compromised Kamukura who's experiencing baby's first over-protective instinct.
> 
> And *gasp* the L-word is being thrown around! Next chapter Naegi finally gets to the bottom of things.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, it really makes my day!


	5. Paranoia part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura goes through with his little project to Naegi's confusion.

An odd sound brings him slowly out of his dreams. It’s like… a sawing sound, almost. For a moment he thinks he must still be asleep, but the sound is persistent, so he forces himself to wake up fully and deal with it. Rubbing at his eyes and stretching out to get the sleep off of him, he realizes the bed is empty - Kamukura must have left during the night again.

That thought makes him droop a bit before he forces himself to perk up. Kamukura is probably a busy person with all of those exams every day. And besides, he doesn’t have time to get gloomy about that!

He tosses the covers off him and sits up to see what the noise is.

…

He tilts his head and stares before pinching himself just to make _extra_ sure he’s not still asleep. There’s a lot of strange things in his life he’s gotten used to since attending Hope’s Peak. The bizarre and unusual are common in a school full of Ultimates after all, and even someone as normal as him has to get accustomed to it.

But there’s not a lot that can prepare him for waking up to see his boyfriend carefully taking a wood file to his desk.

He’s kneeled on the ground on one side of it, quick repetitive motions easily grinding off wood from the desk in small shavings, piling up on - is that Kamukura’s suit jacket being used as a catchall?

Naegi stares in disbelief for a few more moments before asking, “What are you doing?”

Kamukura pauses long enough to look over his shoulder at him and say, “Good morning,” before going back to his work.

“Uh, good morning, but you didn’t answer my question.” He hops out of bed - or tries to, but his foot gets caught in the blankets and he stumbles, smacking into his bedside dresser. He grimaces in preparation of the sharp sting because _somehow_ he always manages to catch the corners on these things, but it doesn’t hurt as badly as usual.

That’s odd.

He straightens out and takes a closer look. The corner of the dresser is rounded off. One hand traces over it and the vertices spreading out from it - they’ve all been rounded and softened.

He looks back at Kamukura. Is it just him, or does he seem a little smug…? That’s not an emotion he’s ever associated with Kamukura before even though with all of that talent he’s probably got more reason to be smug than even Togami, and his expression isn’t different, but he’s just got this _feeling._

“Is… this what you’re doing?” he asks incredulously, because the idea is just so _ridiculous._ “Messing with all of my furniture?”

“I’m making them safe,” Kamukura responds with a subtle gesture towards the dresser Naegi had just tripped into.

Okay, Naegi’s much more sure that he definitely sounds smug. He takes a quick tour around his room and sure enough he finds his dressers and table and even his chair all with filed down, blunted edges. There’s a pile of wood filings in his trash can. He feels bad for Kamukura’s poor suit jacket being used to keep his floor clean.

His next thought is that he _really_ hopes that the Academy doesn’t decide to charge him for the damaged furniture.

“How long have you been at this?”

“I began at approximately 1:13 in the morning. I am almost done.”

Naegi has to stop himself from wincing at that. He’s paid his dues as a student and pulled an all-nighter once or twice before - what student hasn’t at some point? But he distinctly remembers the dull, pounding ache of exhaustion stuffed behind his eyes and scrambling his brain, and Kamukura might be incredible but he’s still human.

“You - okay, I don’t know _why_ you’re even doing this to begin with, but you could’ve done it after sleeping. And after asking me. That’s important too. Where’d you even _get_ the files and stuff from?”

“I went back to my lab to retrieve them. That... is why I began so late.” He almost looks irritated at something, with his grip flexing around the wood file’s handle and a small pinch in his brow. Maybe it’s just because he’s tired.

Frankly, Naegi would be a little more put out at having something like this happen if it was his pre-Hope’s Peak life. In Hope’s Peak, though, anything and everything can and _will_ happen.

“And the reason for this is…?” Naegi patiently prompts again.

Kamukura gestures much less subtly at the dresser that he’d stumbled into.

“Yeah, you’re making them safe. Right… Um. You do know that I’m not _that_ clumsy right?” Kamukura gives him a sharp look and Naegi flushes. “Okay, so maybe I can be, but this is a little... ”

“I have realized your luck talent errs far too frequently towards the worst outcomes,” Kamukura explains as he continues whittling away at the last edge of his desk. “I am taking preventative, cautionary measures against your luck.”

Naegi can’t stop from grinning a little. It’s a sweet gesture, but it doesn’t seem very grounded in reality. After all, the only thing he needs to do is step outside of his room and he’ll be surrounded by opportunities for his bad luck to mess with him. He can’t say he really minds his furniture being ‘fixed’ like this though - just so long as the academy doesn’t mind either.

"Okay, well you… have fun with that, I guess. I'm going to get ready for class."

He's fishing out fresh clothing from his newly softened dresser, fighting back the reflexive embarrassment about grabbing a pair of boxers - because Kamukura's seen it all already anyways - when he finally notices the quiet. He glanced over and finds Kamukura staring at him with an odd gleam in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" he asks, vaguely nervous.

"You have class."

"Uh, yeah. I had yesterday off for talent development, but today is back to normal. Sorry if I didn't make that clear but I thought you knew," Naegi says, laughing a little at his own absentmindedness. But who can blame him? Kamukura seems to always know everything - well, except when it comes to emotions. "You can go back to your own dorm and get some rest, and maybe we can hang out after classes! If you're not busy."

"You're going to class," Kamukura says with the air of clarifying something he'd thought was very obvious. It's not exactly insulting, but whatever it is, it's definitely clear in his voice.

"Yes…" Naegi answers slowly, wondering what he's missing. "I have class today, so I'm going."

Kamukura turns slowly back to his work with a minute nod.

Naegi still feels as though something in their communication was lost or blurred between them, because Kamukura seems unhappy, and he's just frankly confused. He considers trying to prompt an explanation before shrugging it off. If there was something wrong, Kamukura would say so, right?

He pads into the bathroom, shutting his pseudo-broken door behind him, and starts the shower.

* * *

Class.

Of course he has class. It's only natural. Kamukura had memorized the school schedule when it became apparent that it would be useful if he were to continue his relationship with Naegi, and as such he's very aware of the fact that he would have classes today. And yet, he finds himself unexpectedly unprepared for this eventuality.

The repetitive back and forth motions of the file slow as he finishes the last part of the desk and the pitter-patter of the shower creates a white noise in the background.

All of this effort, and for what? Naegi will take a step outside of this room and be thrust back into an uncontrolled environment. He _knows,_ of course he knows that he cannot make the entire world safe. All he can do is this, here, in the place where Naegi should be safest. He knows this.

So why does he feel a thin string of tension winding itself around the base of his skull, twisting and twining through the gray matter inside?

Outside. Where a piece of the school can collapse with no warning and crush Naegi. Where combative girls can put him in danger without even knowing. Where bad luck lurks in the corners and crevices of the school, simply waiting. If Kamukura could control it… If he could foresee it, prevent it, then maybe it would be tolerable.

But he can't.

He pats the rest of the shavings and dust off of the table, sanding it down until there are no slivers sticking out, mouth quirked downwards as he realizes the entirety of his futility. He can threaten Enoshima all he likes, but he cannot control fate itself. The intangible, flighty luck that Naegi possesses… He has no power over it whatsoever.

All he can do is watch. Nothing more. For someone like him, with skill like his, as beloved by talent as he is, it should be simple to protect him. Isn't that what he _should_ do anyways, as his boyfriend? Isn't it simply right to protect him?

The only question is how perfectly he can accomplish that when the world can tilt on its axis against Naegi’s favour so easily.

He’s never been unsure of himself before, not in this way. It reminds him too sharply of Hinata’s pathetic insecurities, like needles pricking at the soft skin under his nails. He is not prone to pride - pride is something that belongs to those beneath him who are full to breaking with egoism and false assumptions of their own self-worth. He simply _is._ That being said, naturally he has never felt that his skills were not enough to accomplish any task he sets before himself.

The day previous, they had stayed cloistered inside of this room safely after the near-miss. A closed, small, safe room that has minimal dangers. Foolishly, part of him had already concluded that they would do the same again. And again. Until this _feeling_ went away.

He picks his jacket up carefully and takes it to the trash, patting out the wood waste.

Well, if he cannot keep Naegi in this room, and he cannot predict the other boy’s luck outside of this room, no matter what insecurity he feels regarding his abilities, the only conclusion is that he must accompany him.

Enoshima will be there. He consciously forces himself to relax when the mental image of her sparks that sharp, angry feeling low in his stomach.

Their interaction had echoed in his head all night, replaying over and over as she extolled the virtues of murdering the only person in his life who had granted him a reprieve from abject boredom, who had wormed his way deep into Kamukura’s heart seemingly without meaning to. It makes him feel a dull, muted rage, that anger only tempered by how _ill_ the concept makes him.

He wonders how soon it will be before Matsuda Yasuke dies. Somehow, he knows that his relationship with Naegi has pushed her closer and closer to the breaking point.

The door to the bathroom opens and Naegi walks out still scrubbing at his hair with the towel, sending it in wild directions, covered in his layers of clothing - an odd mixture of his typical bulky clothing style and the academy’s slim uniform that suits him rather well - and a healthy flush spread over his face. It’s a soft image. Kamukura takes care to embed it into his memory.

He regrets not spending the night when he had previously been in Naegi’s room. Missing such a new, interesting view is simply inexcusable.

“Kamukura, are you done?” Naegi asks as he finishes his attempt to dry his hair.

He nods.

“Okay! I guess you can head back to your dorm now, and I’ll head off to class.”

He shakes his head.

Naegi frowns a little and makes a confused noise.

“I will come with you.”

“You… want to come with me to class?” Naegi asks a little dubiously. “What about your teachers? You’re the one who said you have exams every day… And you already skipped yesterday.” He seems to realize something. “Ah! Did you even tell anyone where you went? Our sleepover was kind of spur of the moment. They’re probably worried about you!”

They _would_ be worried if they didn’t know where he was, insofar that they wouldn’t know if their precious Hope had finally decided to quit playing their games and that they’d lost all of the money they’d sunk into him.

However, he knows they have many eyes and ears inside of the school. The small glint of recognition in the eyes of the person who had delivered them their food last night was proof enough that they’d been following his movements above ground.

“I am fine,” Kamukura reassures. “I want to stay with you.”

_Want,_ he says, instead of _need._ It’s not exactly a lie.

Predictably, Naegi goes a little red, grinning slightly. “I want to spend time with you too, but even if you do come to class and the teacher lets you stay, it would probably be torture for you. I know how bored you get just when you’re tutoring me for a few hours. Imagine that all day! And since you’re tired, too…”

“I am not tired. I am still able to function perfectly without two night’s sleep.”

Kamukura realizes his error when Naegi’s face clouds with confusion, then worry. “Two? You - stayed up all night making that painting?”

Kamukura pauses, then carefully says, “I did not spend the entire night on that alone.” He had also spent at least ten minutes feeding himself at some point. That detail is not important.

“And it got destroyed, after you stayed up all night to make it for me.”

Naegi’s face darkens with sadness, and Kamukura needs to derail the conversation immediately. Having Naegi experience despair over such a miniscule issue makes him feel as though Enoshima is gaining a victory over them that she does not deserve.

“I will shower, then we can go to your class,” he says with finality.

Naegi takes another moment to mourn the lost painting before nodding. “Okay… I don’t mind asking the teacher if you can stay for the day. Did you want to go back to your dorm for a change of clothes? Or should I go ask one of the other guys? Because I, uh, _really_ doubt you’ll fit into any of mine.”

“ _No_ ,” he says much more sharply than he means to, but he very much does not appreciate the thought of Naegi leaving the room without him. _Anything_ could happen.

“Well then… What will you do?”

Kamukura turns and opens some of Naegi’s dressers, pulling out a specific shirt he had noticed during his previous inspection. It’s overly large for Naegi’s frame, decorated in sequined flames.

Naegi snorts in laughter as Kamukura presents it. “I forgot I had that. Kuwata gave that to me as a prank, I think. I never ended up wearing it but I felt too bad to throw it away.” He stares at the shirt and then Kamukura with vaguely horrified realization dawning on his face. “You’re… not really going to wear it right?”

“It will fit me.”

Naegi’s lips spasm into a panicked looking smile before his expression smooths out into defeat. “Okay… But what about…? Uh...” His eyes flicker downwards. When Kamukura pulls out a pair of his boxers and the defeat vanishes in favour of red-tinted cheeks and vehement disapproval. “No! You’re not - that’s just a no!”

Kamukura offers an off-handed shrug. “Then I’ll wear nothing.”

The sound that comes out of Naegi then is so strangled and high-pitched he would be concerned if he were not able to discern there is nothing medically wrong. It does not particularly concern him either way if he is completely clothed or not - but he knows it would bother Naegi, and as such Naegi has only a few seconds left before he gives in.

Nearly at the exact millisecond he thinks that, Naegi slumps and waves him off, face burning. “Fine…”

Kamukura politely excuses himself into the bathroom without gloating.

* * *

The shower is as he remembers it, nearly down to the exact detail, the items inside only slightly shifted to indicate usage and the mirror fogged with steam. The air is warm and thick with the smell he’s come to associate with Naegi - the common, simple brand of hygiene products combining into something particular that he finds rather soothing.

Although he slightly regrets not taking any of his own products from his room underground, making him unable to continue his facial and hair care routines, he supposes it’s not an uneven trade to use Naegi’s instead.

Quickly, he undresses and steps into the shower, heel slipping slightly on the ceramic. He stops, staring at the wet, glistening ceramic of the shower floor and feeling as though he’s a character in one of the many stories Naegi had described the day previous, just uncovering a murder plot.

It isn’t beyond belief to imagine someone who trips getting out of bed tripping in the shower.

And for it to happen here would be much worse. In his room, at least, he would be visually apparent to anyone checking in on him. But the bathroom door is broken - anyone searching for Naegi would need to get through the door first if they did not know how to properly open it, and even a few minutes could be enough to make the difference.

And not just the shower floor - the tiles on the rest of the bathroom floor did not have any grip to them either. If water splashed from the shower, it would make the entire room into a coiled trap just waiting to snap shut.

It was remiss of him to ignore such an obvious potential for danger.

With a new problem identified, he showers as efficiently as possible, every second of Naegi out of sight feeling like a ticking timer towards some terrible fate happening. If he isn’t there, then who will protect him? When something as innocuous as a bathroom holds such a potential for danger -

Even under the hot water, he feels chilled. Enoshima had told him that love was in itself suffering and despair, and he cannot disagree. This nausea inducing anxiety constantly coiling itself around him now, the new ways in which he is forced to look at the world… It’s all nearly unbearable. If Naegi truly met with a terrible fate - if he tripped in this very bathroom and cracked his skull open and bled to death with no one around to save him, he’d be free of it all.

Yet... even with the volatile concoction of worries he’s been introduced to, he does _not_ wish to be free of it.

What a troublesome, confusing life Naegi has dragged him into.

He washes off and steps out, twisting the water out of his hair. The comforting smell that says _Naegi_ to him becomes a new reminder with every breath that the _source_ of this comfort is still out of his sight. He has utter faith in his hearing and has heard nothing to cause him concern, and yet he still wonders if the power of luck is enough to overcome him.

The borrowed clothing are just on the barest edge of being nearly too small. He thumbs over the golden star pattern of the boxers in a brief moment of distraction, before the rising anxiety in his chest forces him on. With his clothing finished, the broken doorknob turns uneasily under his hand and his opens the door.

He steps out of the bathroom and feels his fluttering pulse calm immediately when Naegi is safe, sitting on his bed and scrolling through his phone.

Naegi looks up at him and his expression wavers in between incredulity and appreciation, completely ignorant to his realization about the danger present in the bathroom. With awe and disbelief in his voice, he says, “Wow, you… actually make that look good, somehow.”

Kamukura’s lips thin and he tosses his discarded shirt and underwear into Naegi’s clothing hamper. “Your bathroom floor has no anti-slip.”

Naegi tilts his head in confusion. “So what?”

He truly, utterly, _completely_ has no consideration for his own safety. With his ill-fated talent, with his unlucky life, should he not have preemptively protected himself? Kamukura, even with all of his capacity and knowledge, cannot understand the severe lack of survival instincts it would take to create someone like Naegi Makoto.

That’s alright. Kamukura is here now. He’ll protect him even if he won’t protect himself.

“Nothing,” Kamukura dismisses. “Let’s go.”

Naegi makes a soft sound of assent and easily twines their hands together. He’s as warm and soft as Kamukura has become so accustomed to. Something hardens in his heart as they step out into the dangerous world together.

He'll fix everything.

He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamu and Naegi have now successfully(?) acquired each others underwear. The sign of true romance. Kamukura is a little ball of angst and anxiety -angstiety? Emotions are just hard. Plus, y'know, the sleep deprivation.
> 
> One more part of this paranoia mini-arc and then we get to move onto other things. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


	6. Paranoia part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After more overreactions, Naegi finally puts his foot down and talks to Kamukura about his behaviour.

The door to Naegi’s dorm shuts behind them, quickly locked and left behind as Naegi calmly leads them down the corridor. The walk to the classroom is packed full of opportunities for bad luck to strike, waiting for Kamukura to look away for even a moment.

He stays alert, cataloguing every passing student and the surrounding building - it has not escaped his mind that their very first encounter had been paired with a part of the school collapsing. Somehow though, they make it to the classroom unscathed.

Most of the students are already inside, milling around and speaking with one another. The Ultimate Baseball Star, Kuwata Leon, pauses inside when he sees them, giving him a once over before grinning. “Nice shirt, man! I’m glad someone around here has some taste! That stuffy suit of yours was such a yawn.”

Kamukura doesn’t react. Kuwata’s smile dims.

“Um, I’m sure he’s happy to hear that!” Naegi says quickly in the awkward silence, waving his hand slightly to drag Kuwata’s attention to him and arm twining a little harder around Kamukura’s. “Actually, Kamukura’s thinking about joining us today since his classes are - uh - cancelled?”

The little lie goes unnoticed, or perhaps willingly ignored, by the baseball star who gives Kamukura a thumbs up. “Glad to finally have someone else who appreciates good fashion in class. Honestly, Enoshima might claim to be a fashionista, but she always hates my clothes! What’s wrong with her?”

Naegi smiles awkwardly. “Uhh… Yeah. Maybe your style… isn’t mainstream enough?”

Kuwata purses his lips and considers it with a drawn-out hum. Then he brightens and grins. “Yeah! You know what, you’re probably right! I gotta stop letting her get me down - we’re both fashionable even if she doesn’t get it.”

Kamukura pulls Naegi away physically when Kuwata goes to pat him on the shoulder. Kuwata quirks a brow and shrugs before moving away.

Naegi gives him a slight frown before sighing and looking at the head of the room. “Ah, let’s go ask for permission now.”

The lazy looking man glances up at them from his phone when Naegi calls his name, pretending to only just realize they’d been standing there. He gives Kamukura a subtly searching look, clearly uncertain of who he is, before addressing Naegi. “Something I can do for you?”

“Ah, Kamukura was wondering if he could stay here for today? He won’t disturb anyone or anything! His classes were cancelled, s-so,” Naegi says, the barest edge of confidence in his lie vanishing immediately upon saying it aloud. “I was - We were hoping, uh… that he could sit in.”

Kizakura grins a little. “He’s got an interesting uniform for a student here. What class is he in normally?”

Naegi doesn’t know how to answer that, looking at Kamukura for an answer. He has no intentions of answering either. Kizakura does not seem to know who he is - he would prefer it stay that way. The Kamukura Izuru project is not something to boast of. Kizakura looks between them with a raised brow before Naegi finally shrugs weakly.

“H… He’s, uh… got private classes?”

Kizakura smiles blandly. “Would you like some advice, Naegi?”

“Sure?”

“Either learn to lie convincingly or stop trying.” Naegi ducks his head and Kizakura laughs. “You’re a good kid. Sure, he can stay. I don’t care. It’s not like I’m paid by the amount of brats in here. You’re in charge of figuring out where he’s sitting.”

“Okay!” Naegi turns and heads towards his desk, Kamukura following a step behind. “I knew it would be okay! Kizakura-sensei is too laidback to say no. We’ll just have to figure out -”

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

He supposes it was too much to hope she would avoid speaking to him so blatantly. Kamukura gives Enoshima a flat look as she stalks up to him. Ikusaba protectively stations herself in front of her sister despite knowing full well that she would be useless in combat against him.

“Good morning, Enoshima, Ikusaba” Naegi greets politely.

She waves a hand imperiously at him. “Silence, peasant! We have asked _what_ this person in front of us is wearing! It is simply -” Her royal persona wavers. “- well, it should be hideous! But for some reason it looks good on you and that pisses me off even more! What is wrong with you?!”

He looks down at the odd sequined shirt he’d borrowed, realizing fully for the first time the weapon he had been given with the Ultimate Fashionista talent. A weapon to be wielded against the despair-ridden girl in front of him.

“My talent has surpassed yours,” he says simply, memorizing her enraged expression, before turning away and continuing along to Naegi’s desk.

* * *

“Um… Kamukura… You’re not really going to do this, right?” Naegi’s voice seems choked with embarrassment, shifting anxiously as he tries to avoid looking at his classmates who mainly seem to regard them with amusement.

Kamukura blinks slowly, rather comfortable with his seat. He hums and slightly tightens his arms looped around Naegi’s shoulders, leaning his head down to rest on his, rubbing his cheek against his soft hair. Of course he’s ‘really going to do this’ - sitting in his lap only makes sense, after all.

“... Okay. So. You are. This is really happening.”

“I-Is this _allowed?_ ” the Ultimate Writing Prodigy hisses from her seat, perhaps the only one glaring openly at Kamukura’s seating decision. “F-Flagrant… show-offs! It would be okay if - if it was me and Master th-though… Hehehe...”

The Ultimate Affluent Progeny shifts uncomfortably in his own seat at that.

“Well, I suppose I did say they were in charge of seating,” Kizakura shrugs, openly grinning. “Keep it PG, boys.”

Naegi makes a choked sound. Kamukura obligingly adjusts his weight to ensure he is not causing him discomfort. It does not appear to help prevent Naegi from flushing red.

The class is as boring as he’d been warned. Kizakura attempts to be interesting, but he drones on about topics so far beneath him it almost feels pathetic. Kamukura could teach Naegi much more efficiently. He is rather enjoying his ‘seat’, however. It is a new experience. He thinks that, if they were not out in the open where Naegi’s bad luck could strike, he may even have fallen asleep from the comforting feeling.

He supposes that bad luck is not the only problem hanging over his head, however.

Enoshima blithely complains and acts stupid during the class, far below her true intelligence, and she is never questioned by the teacher nor by her classmates. It should be obvious - it is to him, at least, but she successfully fools all of her peers with ease. They even seem to approve of her antics as her personality flips without care.

It reminds him with every casual manipulation that she is dangerous. He possessively holds Naegi tighter whenever she glances over at them. Her only response is to smile coyly.

He is unsure of what she is thinking now. Before, when she was angry and cold at his usefulness being denied to her, it was simple. Now, however, after their discussion, she seems to regard him in almost a friendly manner. In an _understanding_ manner. Patient. Waiting. As though she knows that her desires will come true despite everything.

It’s unsettling.

Midway through the day, she leaves the classroom.

After approximately 17 minutes, the door opens and Enoshima comes back into the room, sitting down at her desk prim and proper. Kamukura distrusts her behaviour immensely. Whatever she had done during her excursion from the classroom will most likely inconvenience him, a probability he is nearly 100% certain of - 

He is proven immediately correct when a bulky man pushes through through the still open door, glaring around the room before zeroing in on Kamukura.

He knows this man.

“Oh, Sakakura, to what pleasure do I owe having you in my classroom?” Kizakura asks drily from the front of the room. “Surely it’s not Christmas yet.”

Perhaps he should say _Hinata_ knew this man. The hulking Sakakura Juzo who had ridiculed and attacked him for being a Reserve Course student daring to step out of the lower class and interact with his natural superiors. Kamukura holds no grudge against him, even _approves_ of him keeping those lines so clear when all too many Reserve students seem to forget their places.

However, if he intends to separate him from Naegi, he will find that he has finally met his own superior - the Ultimate of Ultimates who stands at the top of Hope’s Peak.

Sakakura stares at him seated on Naegi’s lap for a long moment, a myriad of conflicting emotions colouring his face - jealousy, hatred, longing. Eventually, he motions sharply. “I’m here for this kid, with the long hair.”

Sakakura does not recognize him.

“Kid with long hair?” Kizakura hums, obtusely looking away. “Maizono? Or maybe Enoshima?”

Naegi shifts in discomfort, peering around Kamukura at the intruder into the room. Kamukura feels deeply annoyed at the boxer for inciting the worried pinch in his brow.

Sakakura scowls darkly, eyes flitting towards Enoshima with something nasty and afraid colouring his expression, before turning back fully towards Kamukura. “He’s not a student in this class. He should get back to where he belongs.”

Kizakura shrugs, a casual air hanging around him. He must be rather familiar with Sakakura, and not altogether fond of him. He has no intentions of allowing the boxer to push him around. Kamukura approves. “No need. I gave him permission to be here.”

Enoshima taps her nails idly on her desk and Sakakura twitches so minutely he may as well have not moved at all, but Kamukura saw it. Enoshima did too, red lips curving upwards.

"... I was informed that someone from the Reserve Course was flaunting around in here, and I'm going to take him back to where he belongs," Sakakura says stiffly when Enoshima taps her nails again. Both Kirigiri and Kizakura look at her, then seemingly dismiss her. How disappointingly predictable. The boxer continues, "Even if he isn't in uniform, I can't sit around with my thumb up my ass if Reserves are stepping out of line."

Kamukura can nearly taste the confusion hovering around Naegi, thickening with every word.

“Enoshima?” Kizakura asks flatly.

She twirls some hair between her fingers, pouting. “Eeeeh, I didn’t really do anything! I just happened to mention some weeeird guy in our class! I mean, he’s obviously not an Ultimate otherwise we’d know him, right?”

Naegi makes a disapproving sound. “Um, that’s wrong -”

“ _And_ ,” she says with emphasis, cutting Naegi off, “isn’t this guy security staff? Shouldn’t we be trusting him to do what’s _right?_ ”

Some of the students murmur half-hearted agreement.

Kizakura sighs at her antics. “Honestly. Sakakura, really. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

That seems to thin Sakakura’s patience enough to snap.

Kamukura sees the muscles winding up before Sakakura even moves, raising up a hand preemptively to catch the quick punch sent his way. If he were Hinata, he’s sure it would have left him blacked out on the ground - the Ultimate Boxer definitely earned his title. But he’s not. The fist stops in his hand.

Sakakura’s face scrunches in disbelief. “What the -”

He shoves the boxer backwards, students scrambling out of the way and gathering together at the edges of the room, and gets off of Naegi’s lap. “Stay there,” he says to his bewildered boyfriend. Then he turns to the increasingly enraged man and picks apart his stance with his Analyst abilities. It will be over quickly.

Why Enoshima brought him here, he is not entirely sure of. She must know his skill is too weak to defeat him, and if this is a plan to bring Naegi despair it seems half-hearted and destined to fail.

Perhaps it is instead designed to associate his presence with a disturbance in the classroom and turn more of Naegi’s classmates against him as she had attempted to do following his interaction with the Moral Compass. Her emotional shift into regarding him as a ‘friend’ has not prevented her from continuing to attempt to isolate him, it seems.

It doesn’t matter if he is banned from the classroom or not. He can easily take over Naegi’s education.

Sakakura drops into a low stance, fists up, before striking out at him quickly. It is almost insulting how easy his attacks are to predict, his anger telegraphing his moves. Kamukura blocks another hit and grabs onto his forearm, bracing himself and tossing the man aside through some desks.

He sees Naegi begin to stand, giving him a scolding look. “Stay.”

Naegi chews at his lip and slowly sits back down as Sakakura stands. He cannot predict his luck, but as long as Naegi remains in one place and he can keep a protective eye on him then he is in control.

There’s fear and shock swirling into the anger on the boxer’s face. His next punch is more reserved, cautious. Kamukura dodges and lands his heel in Sakakura’s stomach, knocking him back against the classroom wall, windows shuddering at the impact.

He’s getting bored of this.

Sakakura spits out some bile and throws a desk at him that he ducks under while charging. Kamukura springs out from his crouch and lands on Sakakura’s shoulders, wrapping his legs around his neck and tilting backwards. In one motion, he uses his weight to set Sakakura off balance and then slam him head first into the desk at the front of the classroom.

Sakakura slams through the teacher’s desk, the wood snapping loudly as it folds in on itself under the sudden force of his weight, papers scattering through the air. Blood streams from a head wound hidden under his hair as he struggles to stand from the wreckage before collapsing.

Kamukura feels a very distant pang of victorious revenge that he viciously stamps out.

Turning, he sweeps his gaze over the classroom. Kizakura seems only mildly amused as he stands guard in front of a cold-gazed Kirigiri. Some of the smaller, frailer students are gathered behind Owada and Ogami, the latter of whom seems almost mortified at the scene before her. Ikusaba is naturally guarding Enoshima who gazes at him with an even look in her eyes, extremely sharp and analytical.

Then he sees Naegi standing where he left him with a worried expression, but not aimed at him. His eyes are trained directly on Sakakura’s unconscious body.

“I-Is he alright?” Naegi asks shakily.

Kizakura steps forwards cautiously with a jaunty wave. “Hey, uh, why don’t you let the adult in the room take over? You’ve done _more_ than enough, kid.”

He takes another look at Sakakura’s unconscious body before moving away back to Naegi’s side, the students at the sides of the classroom backing away subtly as he approaches. Naegi’s attention switches to him, checking over for any damage. Kamukura patiently allows the inspection as Kizakura looks after Sakakura.

“What was that all about?” Naegi asks after he’s reassured Kamukura is fine. He does not desire to explain the intricacies of Enoshima’s urge to disturb the peace. Naegi doesn’t seem to expect an answer anyways. “Calling you Reserve Course too… It just doesn’t make sense.”

Enoshima most likely thought it amusing. Whatever piece of blackmail she has over Sakakura would have been more than enough to make him swallow whatever she told him.

Kizakura stands after a brief examination. “Er, I guess I should dismiss class for today. Get this guy to the nurse’s office or something.”

The Ultimate Moral Compass begins complaining before being hushed by various other students.

“And you, Kamukura.” Kamukura already knows what he’s going to say. He was correct after all - Enoshima must have desired this outcome. “Maybe it’s for the best you don’t come back here, yeah? We all need to do our part to keep the peace around here.”

“I’m sorry, sensei,” Naegi unknowingly apologizes for Enoshima’s behaviour.

Kamukura doesn’t care to wait any longer now that Naegi has been dismissed. “We’re going.”

“Uh, where?”

Wasting words on something so pointless simply means there is more time in between them and his goals.

“K-Kamukura, hold on -”

* * *

Naegi doesn’t really have any say in the matter once Kamukura’s gotten the idea in his head - whatever that idea may be - and he’s subsequently scooped up into the other’s arms and carted off like he’s less of a burden to carry than a child might carry a stuffed animal. He’s not _that_ small, is he?

He’s still worried about the big, scary guy who’d come into the classroom and looked at Kamukura like he’d really hated him. He knows of the Reserve Course, but he’s never actually gone to that side of the school or interacted with one of them. They pay a lot to attend Hope’s Peak because they believe in the school and want a good future. So to treat them that way, even if Kamukura isn’t actually a Reserve student…

It just makes him sad to see. Maybe he should mention something to the headmaster, or to Kirigiri to bring it up to him.

Still, even if he was a jerk abusing his authority, he landed _really_ hard on his back. The desk was completely broken! As the Ultimate Boxer, he’s probably used to getting knocked around, but Kamukura hadn’t been playing around. Now he can see even clearer how easy it was for him to bruise Ishimaru’s arm, or why Owada thought he could’ve broken it; it probably would’ve been like snapping a stick. He might even be stronger than _Ogami_ of all people.

It's not… _scary_ exactly, but it's a little off-putting, realizing for the first time just how easily Kamukura could hurt someone if he wanted to.

"Where are we heading?" Naegi asks when Kamukura turns a corner and begins heading towards where most of the research labs are clustered. The Luck lab is among them, mostly used by his senior Lucky student in the second year. Kamukura doesn't seem to be headed that way, though, instead making his way across the greens towards where the heavy machinery is located.

He tries very hard not to be overwhelmed with embarrassment as he had been the day prior when Kamukura had suddenly changed his mind about spending their time outdoors and hauled him back to his room. Some passing students give them idle glances that send lances of heat into his cheeks, but life at Hope's Peak is too hectic to spare something so mild more than cursory curiosity. He should be thankful for _that,_ at least.

Kamukura doesn't seem very inclined to answer his questions either, eyes flickering around as though expecting someone or something to come charging at him. It's abnormally paranoid for him, and Naegi wonders if maybe the lack of sleep has gotten to the older boy.

They finally stop in front of the Mechanic Lab and he has just enough time to wonder how Kamukura will get the door open with his hands full before one of his legs lashes out and kicks the door in, right off the hinges. Naegi’s jaw drops and someone shrieks from inside.

“K-Kamukura!”

He’s carried inside to a workshop, craning his neck to see who’d screamed before spotting a boy with pink hair clutching at his chest.

“Are you okay?!” Naegi calls over his shoulder as Kamukura quickly heads towards a shelf of paint cans.

“Uhh, I guess?! What the hell!”

Kamukura adjusts him to hold him in one arm - he really _is_ that small, huh… - and grabs a paint can off the shelf before turning on his heel and heading back out the door. Naegi waves at the upperclassman still cowering. “S-Sorry about your door!”

He can guess where they’re headed next. He spends the quick walk back to his dorm putting his thoughts in order, because whatever’s going on needs to stop. Kamukura wasn’t at fault for that security guard coming in and making a mess, but his behaviour’s been all over the place. He thought it might go back to normal, and blamed it on the lack of sleep, but…

Well it’s better to talk it out now than wait for it to get worse.

* * *

He had predicted correctly about the mechanic’s workshop having anti-slip paint in it, naturally. All that’s left now is to fix a problem he should’ve seen ahead of time.

Naegi stands behind him at the mouth of the bathroom. “Okay. This is really enough, now. You need to stop and talk to me.”

Kamukura doesn’t look up from where he’s busy preparing to paint the floor of Naegi’s bathroom with anti-slip paint, mixing the different agents together and pouring it into a pan. He registers the words, naturally, nestling them in the same box he usually does with Naegi’s other inane ramblings that he listens to regularly - it isn’t that he finds them unimportant, they’re simply not _as_ important as the task at hand.

If he were prompted to, he could recite every word said back verbatim, mimicking the tight inflection and strange cut of tension. Something dim stirs at the back of his skull at the tone, but not enough to distract him.

“I’m serious,” Naegi says behind him. “Kamukura.”

The words filter through and immediately get stored away where he doesn’t need to pay attention to them. This is more important. He’ll need to apply two even layers to make it completely effective.

Hands grab his shoulders and futilely try pulling him away from his task, fisting in his borrowed shirt and carefully avoiding pulling on his hair, before they stop trying. Then a warm weight lays itself over his back, the hands covering his eyes and Naegi’s voice clear in his ear, close enough where their skin whispers against one another.

“Kamukura, _stop._ ”

He feels his lashes brush against Naegi’s hands when he blinks. “I cannot continue if you block my sight.”

“That’s the point,” Naegi huffs. “I want you to just stop and talk to me.”

“I am able to multitask. We can speak as I work,” he offers as a compromise.

“ _No!_ You stop and look at me!”

He’s rarely heard this tone from Naegi before. Even when he had scolded him for injuring his classmate he had not raised his voice like this. The only other time had been when they’d had their ‘discussion’ regarding talents, when Naegi had been full to the brim with righteous anger. It would be interesting to see that again, he supposes, and the paint will not dry in the pan within minutes - he has time to spare.

When he pulls away from the supplies, the hands also recede before pulling at his borrowed shirt again until he turns completely. He decides not to stand or move away from his paint just in case Naegi somehow trips and knocks it all over.

“Okay. Good. Now can you please just tell me what’s wrong? _Why_ are you acting this way?”

Kamukura weighs his possible answers. There are still some lies - or rather… twists of the truth that he could use to escape this conversation and leave him to complete his task. Or he could be entirely truthful and open himself to more interrogation. He finds himself not entirely sure of which he'd prefer more.

He’s uncovered more of that intriguing aspect of Naegi’s personality he had only briefly seen during their discussion on talents, and dismissing that even if it means having his protective behaviour disrupted feels… boring.

Intrigue or safety?

“... I… am convinced now that your talent is too dangerous to leave unattended. I am preventing danger.”

Naegi looks at the paint, the edges of his furniture, and hums in thought, connecting his recent behaviour together. His curiosity will only lead him to dig deeper into Kamukura’s decisions. “What exactly is it about what happened the other day that made you so convinced I’m in danger?”

“A shard of a knife nearly hit you, before you tripped.”

“O-Oh. So that’s why…” Naegi seems a little shocked, rubbing at his head - he must be picturing the knife striking him, hair going slick and matted with blood. Then he refocuses. “But! That doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t me tripping out of the way mean my luck came in handy? I mean shouldn’t you feel relieved rather than worried?”

Kamukura frowns. “Your luck is unpredictable. I cannot be assured of your safety if I cannot predict it.”

Naegi frowns back. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve managed to survive just fine until now.”

“‘Until now’ is not acceptable.”

“It proves I can get by just fine! It’s not like I’m always living in danger - the thing with Ikusaba and Ogami was a once off. It happens! And I’m fine anyways!”

Kamukura has no intentions of letting the previous point go. “‘Until now’ is not acceptable as it only factually means you are still alive at this moment. Tomorrow, an hour from now, at _any_ point in the future than can change. Your ‘until now’ has absolutely no bearing on your continued existence.”

“Well, I know that! What I mean is -”

“You are trying to say that you have proven yourself capable of surviving, and yet you clearly have no desire to continue to do so.” He gestures at the bathroom floor behind him. “There are many security measures you could have taken and you did not.”

“I - hold on, the _floor_ isn’t going to kill me.”

He doesn’t believe he needs to explain how frequently Naegi trips in order to emphasize his point. He knows he is correct.

“Kamukura, you get how crazy you sound, right?”

“I am taking simple precautions.”

“Okay. Okay, look. It’s normal to feel worried for the safety of people you care about,” Naegi says, reaching out and cradling his face. Kamukura leans easily into his warm palms, looking up and resting his hands on Naegi’s sides. “But you need to trust them to take care of themselves too. You can’t do everything.”

"I can," he argues pointlessly. "I can do anything. I am capable of anything."

"I didn't say you couldn't - I said you can't do _everything._ No matter how amazing you are, no human being can do everything all at once. That's what I said before, didn't I? That we all have to rely on one another?"

"That topic and this are not connected. They are completely separate issues," Kamukura denies, fingers twisting in Naegi's uniform, futilely holding onto him when he can feel the divide between them growing too vast and deep to stop. “I can achieve your safety if you allow me.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Naegi asks incredulously, shaking his face lightly. “Baby proof my room and never let me leave it? Or never sleep again just in case something happens during the night? Or _what?_ When’s it stop?”

Kamukura’s response rises and gets stuck in his throat, painful and tight when he realizes it. There is no end. Naegi waits for another moment for him to answer before his expression shifts.

“Kamukura.” The tone of Naegi’s voice is far too calm. “I think you need to go back to your own room and get some sleep. You’re tired and not thinking right.”

He shakes his head, pulling Naegi towards him and burying his face against his stomach.

Kamukura realizes he’s lost when Naegi says, “I’m not really asking anymore.”

Naegi pets his hair, fingers dragging through and making him shiver. He wants to stay here, where he can hold onto the precious thing that has given his manufactured life meaning, where he can protect it. _Why_ can’t Naegi understand that? Why can’t he just allow Kamukura to keep him safe?

His barrette snaps open and Naegi pulls it out before nudging him away. “Look,” he says, waving the red barrette. Kamukura looks at it, then at Naegi. “Tomorrow, I’ll give this back to you, okay?”

Kamukura stands on numb legs as Naegi pulls him up and he stiffly walks towards the door against his will.

“We can meet up after class is done, okay? Get some rest. I’m serious. We can talk about this more when you’re back to normal.” Naegi gives him a bright smile and a quick kiss at the door. “Trust me. Okay?”

Kamukura shivers slightly and nods.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The door closes between them and Kamukura stares at it for a long while, thinking on how simple it would be to break it down or pick the lock to get back inside. He knows Naegi’s schedule to the very last detail - it would be easy to break in during his sleep. Or he could simply wait outside and keep guard that way.

But… Naegi wants his trust.

If he breaks Naegi’s request, it may ruin the trust Naegi has in _him._ Would he refuse to see Kamukura again? Would he be angry? Would he hate him?

Eventually, somehow, he finds it in himself to turn and walk away from the door, feeling more and more ill with every step. His mouth feels dry and his head is hurting, the ring of scars on his head almost seeming to throb with his heartbeat. It is psychosomatic, but it emphasizes his internal struggle. He nearly turns around halfway back to the area that contains the passageway down to his ‘room’, before stopping himself. 

He’ll trust Naegi.

He can force himself to sit in his room and stare at the wall, restraining himself from fleeing back to Naegi’s side, but he cannot force his mind to quieten.

The rest of his day passes with a thousand different scenarios and possibilities playing in the theatre of his mind, detailing bloody ways for Naegi to pass without him there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I wanted Kamukura to sit in his lap okay? Let me live  
> \- Sakakura's name sucks to type so many times  
> \- Souda! Here and gone. Unexpectedly the first member of 77-B to show up.  
> \- And finally the paranoia arc is... sort of over!
> 
> Thanks for being patient with the wait. Please let me know if you enjoyed!


	7. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura's having a rough time - so is Ogami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just pretend this didn't take me like 2 months to write

His eyes sting slightly when he blinks.

There is someone in the room talking to him, droning on and on about pointless, useless, boring topics that he does not care about. Politics, surgeries, assassinations, talents, his misbehaviour -  _ pointless. _ His mental clock ticks forward another minute and he sluggishly blinks again as the voice continues to speak. Part of him wishes he could simply  _ not listen, _ but he cannot force his senses to deaden enough.

Sleep had not come to him, the sickening roll of nausea and anxiety keeping him awake. It’s only 7:06 in the morning… He still has a full school day to wait. Before, he could pass a day -  _ days, _ even - in his room without even realizing it. Now, it feels excruciatingly, impossibly long.

“Izuru?”

He stares at the wall. The seams of it are almost unnoticeable but he traces them with his eyes anyways, eyeing the material and calculating how long it will take without intervention for the building to crumble into decay. It had been designed to be sturdy, long lasting, a stronghold to keep him cocooned inside of until they need him. Perhaps 80 years without maintenance.

“... been sitting there…”

The voices are talking about him.

“We know he was with the boy…”

“What happened?”

They’re murmuring about his behaviour as though he’s not present. Gossiping. Whispering. Trying with their small, dull brains to divine what has wrought the change in him. Let them question amongst themselves.

It isn’t any of their business.

He stands and they fall quiet, expecting him to respond, to give some sort of explanation to his catatonia, but he moves past them instead into his lab. If he cannot sleep and he cannot be left alone to spend the day staring at the wall, he’ll attempt to create something instead. Something with paint, or clay, forming the face of the person he wants to see most dearly.

Idle hands are the devil’s tools. The more occupied he can make his mind, the less it should focus on things outside of his control.

And at the moment, that’s all he can do.

* * *

Naegi scrubs a hand through his hair, trying to brush off his lingering sleepiness, wandering into the area that connects the male and female first year dorms. He’d been somewhat relieved when Kamukura hadn’t been haunting his room or around his dorm, because he honestly wasn’t sure what he’d do if the other boy had decided to just ignore his ultimatum. It hadn’t been easy putting down a boundary, but he’s still thankful he did.

It’s still a little difficult imagining someone being so deeply concerned for his health that they’d go that far - staying up nights in a row to keep an eye on him, trying to ensure his room was as safe as it could be… Part of him feels warm and soft thinking about Kamukura’s clear care for him, and part of him feels the tiniest bit upset that he’d been treated like glass that would shatter if he so much as blinked.

His luck talent may be wild and unpredictable, but it’s the very same luck talent that got him into this school and allowed him to  _ meet _ Kamukura to begin with. He’s dealt with it every day of his life so far and nothing catastrophic has ever happened. A bruise or a scrape here and there, but to die because of it?

Kamukura’s talents and abilities may make him one of the most intelligent and capable people he’s ever met, but it’s a double-edged sword. Naegi’s satisfied in his small, simple reality if it means he doesn’t have to constantly imagine all the worst the world can offer.

He touches the barrette safe in his pocket and sighs before shaking himself. It’s a fresh day. No point in lingering on the strange behaviour that would hopefully be cured with a night’s rest.

Only a few steps into the main area, he spots Maizono. When he notices the anxious crease in her brow, the only thing marring her almost glowing beauty, he asks, “Ah… Are you alright?”

“Um… It’s strange! Hina and Sakura have been arguing all morning...”

“Huh? Arguing? What’re they arguing about?”

“I don’t know,” Maizono hums, sounding a little worried. “Something’s clearly wrong but I didn’t know what to do… Oh!” She raises a finger and smiles at him, nearly glowing with delight. “I know! You should go see! You’re good at knowing what to say!”

“Er…” Well, he should have seen that coming. One way or another, he always ends up getting involved in his classmate’s drama. Maizono smiles, all sugar and spice, clearly expecting him to say yes. “... Fine.”

“Yay! Thanks!” And with that she trots off happily, problem resolved.

“Yeah… You’re welcome,” he says to the empty hallway before sighing and heading off to the girl’s dorm.

* * *

It’s pure chaos.

Ogami is hauling out arms full of training equipment, tiles and wooden stakes piled up in her arms while Asahina is crying angrily and dragging a wooden stake painfully back into the room as the giant sighs. They seem to be arguing over the dismantling of Ogami’s room.

“Sakura-chan! You can’t just go home!”

Home…?

“That’s enough, Hina… I have no place here any longer. I cannot shame myself or this school by remaining here.”

“What’s going on?” he asks incredulously. Ogami, going home? He’d think that perhaps someone had fallen ill or maybe died - her rival-boyfriend, maybe - but talking about shame like that… Something serious must have happened.

The two girls look over at him. Asahina reacts first, throwing an accusing finger at Ogami and tearfully demanding, “Talk some sense into her, Naegi!”

Ogami looks away and seems to shrink slightly. He blinks. “What happened?”

“She thinks she doesn’t deserve her title of Ultimate anymore because of - because of your stupid boyfriend!” Hina shouts, her ire flipping immediately from her friend straight onto him. “That dumb fight yesterday in class made her  _ think _ that your boyfriend deserves the title of Ultimate Martial Artist!”

“H-Huh? Is that true?”

Ogami avoids his eyes and shifts uncomfortably in a way that he knows isn’t from the heavy load of training materials on her shoulders. After a tense moment, she bows her head in defeat. It’s a look he’s never quite seen on her before. “It is true. I have witnessed many fighters of many different skill levels in my life, and never before have I seen a form so flawless. I acknowledge my own limitations, and I have seen them in him. I never believed anyone other than Kenshiro would...” She grits her teeth and slumps.

Naegi flounders for a moment. He’d been able to tell that Kamukura was fighting on a level that was incredibly skilled, and not only because the guy he’d knocked out was once given the title of Ultimate Boxer. And he  _ is _ the Ultimate Hope - it only makes sense he’d be able to overcome anyone, including Ogami, no matter how strange it feels to realize that.

Telling her that her worries were unfounded would simply be a lie, but… how else to address the issue?

“So you’re leaving the school because you think he’s stronger than you, right?”

“‘Think’ is a misleading way of putting it. I believe this to be so with my entire soul.”

“Right. So you’re giving up without even trying to fight him because you want to keep your title of being undefeated, basically.”

He flinches at the sound of everything in Ogami’s arms crashing to the ground as she glares down at him, eyes almost sparking and veins pulsing. He figured he’d end up regretting saying it, but she’s not the type of person to enjoy empty platitudes or beating around the bush. He’s taken a straight arm from Mondo before, so he’s  _ pretty _ sure he can survive a punch from her.

“N-Naegi,” Asahina yelps, looking shocked. “How could you say something like that?! You know that’s not true!”

“No, Hina,” Ogami growls out. “I… I cannot say that it is untrue.” She curls her hands into fists and stares down at them. “I swore to myself the only person I would ever lose to is Kenshiro. To suddenly be faced with the reality that I may also be soundly defeated by someone else entirely, erasing all of my progress… It astounds and horrifies me.”

“But your progress isn’t being erased! It might hurt your pride, but wouldn’t it always haunt you that you ran away from the next step of your journey? Would you even be able to look Kenshiro in the face knowing that?”

Ogami glares at him, sending a bolt of cold fear down his back. Then her countenance softens and her shoulders slump, hands going slack. “I… suppose you are correct. I could not tell him I ran from this challenge. He would scold me severely for it, and he would be right to do so. I’ve tarnished my pride as a warrior.”

“Not at all! You had a small lapse in judgement is all. Right, Hina?”

The swimmer jumps at the address, quickly recovering and turning to her friend. “That’s right! We all have bad days! The fact you’re choosing to keep fighting on is all that matters!”

Ogami laughs shortly. “Thank you both again. I won’t forget this.”

Naegi stays and helps clean up the shattered tiles, happily chatting with his two classmates as he does. He’d never expected the appearance of Kamukura in his life to bring so much chaos, even to the point of almost leading Ogami to quit the school entirely. He wonders if he’s prepared to handle whatever else will come from the ripples of his presence, because something inside of him is telling him…

… there’s worse to come.

* * *

Kamukura arrives at their meeting spot many hours too early, unable to focus on any projects without them turning macabre thanks to his bloody thoughts and loathing the idea of listening to another second of the mind-numbingly boring lectures of his teachers.

He had mechanically changed out of his day old clothing before leaving, carefully folding the glittery shirt he’d borrowed and hiding it in a small canvas in his art studio - his teachers may intrude on him at whatever odd hours they desire and his privacy is null, but his projects? His proof of talent? Those, at least, they allow to remain intact and undisturbed.

Without the odd shirt or the red barrette in his hair, he looks… the same as he had before. Dull, tired eyes, and his - Hinata’s bland, reserve course suit. Why had they never changed his wardrobe? Is it because he was never intended to leave this underground bunker? For a symbol of their hope, they had given him nothing.

And without the marks Naegi had left on him, what’s left of him is… colourless. Uninteresting.  _ Boring. _

He touches the spot his barrette  _ should  _ be and feels a tight pain in his chest.

The sounds of students and school life around him feel at once overwhelmingly and as though he’s hearing it through a dampening filter. His senses are conflicting with themselves. Everything seems slightly off. He digs his fingers into his thighs until his muscles spark with pain and he recentres himself on that feeling.

When he feels as though he can breathe properly again and the world isn’t quite so suffocating, he takes a seat on a bench near the gardens Naegi likes so much.

He can wait right here, for as many hours as it takes.

The sun weighs down on him as it crawls through the sky, each second of each minute ticking loudly by in his head as he counts down to Naegi’s arrival.

He wonders if Enoshima will take advantage of his absence to sew more seeds of confusion in Naegi’s mind. Thankfully, the issue of being Reserve Course had been ignored and swept away in favour of more pressing topics, but it is only a matter of time before she increases the pressure on him. All Naegi would need to do is use his connection with the Kirigiri family to see the roster of students in the Reserve Course to realize his name is not present.

The question of how a talent like his is possible, of his dorm, of his teachers - all of them have been left kindly aside by Naegi’s earnest trust in his word.

All it would take to send everything spiralling out of his hands is a tug at a single thread.

Nausea roils in his stomach. He can envision her perfectly in his mind’s eye, poisoning Naegi’s thoughts with worries and suspicions while he’s away. In a way, to have his mind influenced and altered by her is even worse than her simply harming him physically. Being exposed to her ‘despair’.

… He supposes though, as long as Naegi stays alive, it does not matter if he is thrust into despair or not.

As long as he isn’t left alone, to endure this aching sensation in his chest, to return to the dull, colourless life he’d been floating aimlessly through before. To avoid that, he would follow Naegi anywhere. He knows this already. He’s known this since Enoshima had given him the label of love to the feeling twisting around inside of him.

The day passes excruciatingly slowly as his introspection only deepens.

He snaps out of it when, hours later, his skin prickles with the feeling of someone looking at him. His head turns and his eyes meet green. Naegi is walking his way, hand half raised in a wave. Kamukura just barely manages to keep himself in his spot, a surge of relief almost making him shiver from the adrenaline.

Naegi is warm and alive when Kamukura greedily hugs him, wrapping his arms around him and holding tight until he feels as though the world has settled back into normality. Eventually, Naegi makes a slight sound and pushes back just enough for them to look at one another.

“You… didn’t sleep at all, did you?” He sounds weary, disappointed.

Kamukura’s mouth twitches downwards and his eyes feel hot. He’d stayed away as he’d been told, behaved as well as he was able to, but he simply  _ could not _ sleep. His body wouldn’t rest. And because of this failure his performance has dissatisfied Naegi despite his efforts.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“No - ah, I’m not mad or anything. I’m just… really worried about you. It’s just not healthy to stay up as long as you have and I think it’s really starting to affect you.” Naegi’s hand cups the side of his face and his thumb traces lightly under his eye where the skin looks almost bruised. “You just look tired.”

“A normal human being can stay awake for days without consequence,” he says without adding the clearly implied  _ and I am not a normal human being. _ “I am not experiencing any hallucinations or major physical health concerns.”

Naegi gives him a flat look. “That’s really not the point… The point is it’s not healthy and you have to take care of yourself.”

Kamukura doesn’t know what to say.

He sighs and takes something out of his pocket. “Well, anyways, as promised.” From his pocket he produces the barrette, and with steady hands he carefully pulls some of Kamukura’s hair aside and slides it in, clipping it back into place. “There. Not so bad, right?”

‘Not so bad’... Kamukura simply hugs him again, trying to press the sensation into himself. Despite his perfect memory, he can never quite recall how it feels exactly, holding Naegi like this.

Eventually, Naegi coaxes him to the bench, sitting down and encouraging Kamukura to take his spot, curled up with his head in his lap. Fingers thread through his hair, petting it soothingly, palms warm and welcome. It’s comforting, familiar.

“Are you going to nap now?” Naegi asks.

He shakes his head and presses his face against Naegi’s button-up.

Naegi sighs at him again. “Alright.” And then he moves on, talking about his day, about his classmates and what they’d learned during class. Kamukura lets it wash over him, soothing and calming. He wants to stay just like this. He wants the rest of the world to vanish. He wants it to be just them, nothing else to concern themselves with… 

He can’t have that, of course.

When the sky begins to darken and Naegi’s words dry up, the comforting moment passes.

“I’m going to go back to my room now,” Naegi says awkwardly after Kamukura has lifted himself back into a seated position, largely against his own will. “Okay?”

_ Are you okay? _ he doesn’t exactly ask, but that is what he means.

“...” Kamukura is not okay with that. “Yes,” he says.

He stands in that spot, watching Naegi walk away from him until he passes back into the school proper towards his dorm. It’s as much of a struggle as it was the day before, forcing himself to return to his dark, drab underground room. His head feels heavy, thick with white noise. When he reaches his room, he retrieves the shirt hidden in his lab and carries it with him into bed. He lays the shirt over his pillow and turns his face into it, breathing in the mixture of his and Naegi’s scents.

It takes a handful of minutes before his eyes become so heavy he cannot open them.

He sleeps uneasily that night, finally overcome by his body’s need for sleep, drifting in and out of a light slumber, night terrors awakening him and dissipating like mist before he can recall what the dream was.

Naegi’s alive the next day too.

And the next.

And the next.

When they reach five days of Naegi managing to avoid both death and grievous injury without Kamukura’s interference, he is forced to admit that…  _ perhaps… _ he had slightly overreacted. However the knowledge that his behaviour had been spurred on by lack of sleep and Enoshima’s cutting words does not prevent him from still feeling that lingering paranoia.

_ “It’s normal to feel worried for the safety of people you care about,” _ Naegi had said.  _ “But you need to trust them to take care of themselves too. You can’t do everything.” _

He will put his trust in him. He  _ has. _ But that has not stopped this  _ feeling. _

A few days after that, Naegi holds his hand as they walk aimlessly through the school’s courtyards, Kamukura keeping a careful eye on him to ensure he stays out of harm but not so obvious as to incite another scolding about overprotectiveness.

He feels the small stone of nausea from Enoshima’s discussion with him in his lab in the middle of the night, sitting at the base of his throat from where it never truly vanished, lingering there with a heavy weight that he feels most strongly of all when boredom overtakes him. This boredom that wears away at him, that highlights the absence of his boyfriend as though it were more like a bleeding wound than anything.

Her words still linger in his ears, twisted up in that stone sitting in his throat. When he’s with Naegi, that stone is easy to ignore. But alone with his thoughts, or with his teachers… It aches sharply with a reminder that  _ this  _ is his life.

It’s as she said. Living a life with only Naegi… Sustaining himself only on that, curing his boredom with him alone, it simply is not possible. That was proven when Naegi forced him out when his intentions of protection began to leak into thoughts and dreams of hiding him away from the world where only Kamukura could touch him - as though Naegi could feel the twisted seed Enoshima had planted inside of him growing and had distanced himself before it could take root.

His life will never  _ not _ be marked by boredom.

Boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom upon boredom --

Boredom with that neverending, underlying sea of sickening worry that something else - some _ one _ else - could end Naegi’s life. Kamukura  _ despises _ that feeling that haunts every hour they’re apart. He cannot foresee the path of Naegi’s luck, cannot control his fate, and can never know for certain if they will see each other again after they part. The concept that something could take Naegi away from him makes his stomach churn, worsening the boredom into something sharp and almost violent.

Unless, of course, Kamukura kills him before something else can.

Kamukura feels a spasm of utter rejection shudder through his body, his free hand curling into a fist so tightly that he can feel his nails bite into his skin.

Naegi makes a small noise of inquiry, noticing his shiver. For a moment, he cannot bring himself to even look at him, too drenched in the thought of Naegi’s blood everywhere, coating him in a way that he would never be able to wash off. A soft hand at his cheek coaxes him and he finds he cannot fight against it, face turning towards the smaller boy and the worry there.

“Are you okay?”

Kamukura swallows past the knot in his throat. Naegi would never understand how he feels. Perhaps it’s for the best he never does. So Kamukura lies. “I’m alright.”

Naegi seems unconvinced. “If something’s bothering you…”

“I’m alright,” Kamukura says again, leaning against the warm hand at his cheek. This time, it’s slightly more true. He allows his worries and blood-tinged thoughts to sink back down into his subconsciousness where undoubtedly they will arise when he is alone, again and again.

He focuses instead on the warmth of where they’re connected, skin on skin, and the way Naegi’s eyes seem somewhat golden in the sunlight.

“Okay… If you say so.”

Kamukura bows his head and presses their lips together, feeling the answering smile against his mouth. When they part, Naegi looks pleasantly distracted from Kamukura’s rapidly fading bad mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll try not to put this off so long again T^T please leave a comment if you read! 💕💖❤

**Author's Note:**

> Please do leave a comment if you read and enjoyed, it really does make my day!


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